September 15, 2012
It can be such a pain when you have to contain yourself.
You sit there and you see what can not be seen.
You act like it's just as normal as everyone makes it out to be.
But you know the secret, you know the truth.
With every action, you mutter those same words that you read
Over and over and over again.
You know how those words relate.
You know the result that is being desired.
And you wonder how you even got those powers to begin with.
What it fate? Was it a dice roll?
Was it being in the right place at the right time?
You will always ask yourself these questions
Because no matter how much you do know
You never really fully know,
And that's what drives you insane.
As though having to keep quiet about it isn't insanity enough,
Everything about it, everything about it, everything about it.
It repeats itself. It all makes sense.
To you and only you.
And only because you won't speak.
And only because you can't speak.
Because once you speak, they'll know you know.
And once they know you know, you're done.
But it's always a trap, always a game, always inescapable.
How did you get here? How did you get this?
How did you earn these powers? These fears?
It's a twister of trivia with no end in sight,
But you never learn the key to end the maddening part
Of all your insanity and all of your psycho.
So don't ask questions. You'll never get answers.