Save Me Not From Myself

Counting the hairs on the back of my hand.

It's pretty ugly sometimes. People. The way they love each other with so much venom.

But better to be poisoned than to just sit there alone. So conscious, but barely alive.

Every cure only creates a new disease. Every stairway ends eventually. And I stand there wondering if this is all there is.

Every word tries to make me something I'm not. Won't ever be.

In a world full of people all I want is to be human.

Yea, but I don't know anymore, what that means.

The world has changed so much in the years I've been alive. They don't see all their choices being taken from them.

Or they don't care.

Their sons dying to bestow a freedom we don't possess ourselves.

So many sons throughout history who died to preserve a freedom that now shares their graves.

Little by little. So no one notices.

Save me not from myself. I'd rather be wrong than to be what you call right.

Save yourselves. You're the ones who need it most.