Thoughts

Confusion’s out of the question.  There’s three of me talking
One holding the gun, while the others stay locked in.
Empathy and normality take a back seat to my sociopathic psyche
That questions anyone with the nerve to ever claim to like me
Why so pretentious? What do you want? What’s your intentions? What if they caught
Me in my thoughts of warm-blooded gunslaying of everyone around me
I’m not cold.  It’s everyone else that belongs in a new place without me
A third of me will shed a tear when you’re gone.  A third of me won’t care at all
The third of me that pulled the trigger will smile like you’ve left with my mom.
I don’t ever know how to feel
I don’t ever know how to think
Correction, I feel like I’m speeding off to the brink
Of my sanity.
Who’s after me?
I love rain.  It’s peacefulness causes me
To think of good times.
Like after you’re gone, thankful to my 9.
Some days I wish there was a one-world government
To ease my frustration with the current state of everything
But I wouldn’t be alive forever to hold the betterment
And these poor realizations bring me back to reality
As one third of I drops the gun and lets the madness be
By itself, just as me.
Cause knives are proved by my other side to be much more exciting.
And then another day, I live with a struggle
Of arguing internally
Restricting what could perfectly
Work, but instead my mind’s wearing a muzzle
And before that day when I might snap, its better that for now this hurts,
Better floating on a tattered raft than facedown dead in a cold puddle.