Sometimes I wish that certain people were dead
And others would live forever,
That I could torture my childhood bullies
And redo lost fights with past lovers.
Sometimes I hate strangers on sight
And sometimes I love them.
Sometimes I talk to myself,
Sing in the shower,
Cry for no reason,
Skip washing my hands,
Squash bugs and smile,
And ogle sexy cartoon characters.
I wonder what dogs and birds are thinking,
Why mosquitoes bite,
Why I snot,
And why “goose” are “geese” but “moose” aren’t “meese”.
Sometimes I’m terrified but I smile
And I’m happy but I hate it.
Most times I fear or worship myself.
But craziest of all is not that I know I’m crazy,
But that you think you’re not.
Don’t judge him so harshly:
he’s just a poor sad motherfucker
trying to be happy.