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For days I died

Under my pillow, on my bed, in my head

Cursing my persona back and forth

Keeping myself locked in a room full of lies.

You guys would never know that of course

All y'all know is how to throw opinions when they shouldn't be thrown

Lash out your thoughts that have somehow grown

Little by little into an entire slag heap.

Though now I've no doubt at all that,

Of all the things I'm grateful for, I'm most grateful to be myself.

Time's getting up for all of us, so before it goes any faster for you guys

Here's some advice -

Excessive unnecessary speculations, the ones y'all have been collecting,

Morbid,

Obstinate,

Outrageous and

Narrow ones,

Are to be taken to the pit fire and incinerated,

Not collected to form the biggest

Dump in the history of this Earth.

Bit hard, I think, it is for y'all to get this into your thick skulls

And that's not so fine, so please

Crack them open a little and

Keep them open.

- If not, well then the first letter of each line in this poem is exclusively for you.

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