what must it be like
to not be me
I mean
I feel like
I am one of those people
those people who
are different
we feel more deeply
more softly
every shade
every layer
pain cuts deeper
highs are higher
which means
lows are lower
scraping the very bottom
of the slicing shale pit
of my agony-screaming mind
i’m not sure
what hurts more
the lows
or the plunging highs
that come screaming across my vision
in white hot flashes of ecstasy
and always
always
always
followed by
the crash
mangled like a car wrapped
around a tree
twisted fragments
sharp and searching
reaching
for my heart
is this the price of genius
because sometimes I think i’m one of those people
those people
and all I know
is what it feels like to live inside my own howling insane
mind so I wonder
do they despise me
my brothers do they hate me
for dominating every conversation
for taking all the attention
the affection for stealing
the show
without ever meaning to
by simply being who I am
with my voice that takes up too much space
and my emotions that are too loud so
they shatter the eardrums of everyone around me
with my easy perfect grades
and my inability to stop
performing
lying
taking the stage
taking the audience
and keeping it
mine
even at their expense maybe
they hated me and maybe they always will
it’s one of those things
you can’t really fix
like the bathroom mirror
I look at through a drugged blur
once it is broken
no amount of glue or best intentions
can repair it
so even though I love them and
I never intended to take away
the love that should have been theirs
or to make their accomplishments look small
because of the gross largeness of my own
it happened
and I wonder
if the way he looks at me
is just a thin layer of friendship
masking the stench of hatred
that is deep and tangled
in a way that only love can be
maybe he isn’t even aware
of how much he despises the girl
who is always noticed while he stands awkward in the dusty shadows
or why
why does he hate her
thebubblegumrebellion.wordpress.com 
❤️ xxxx
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