Contradictory of a Solitary

I probably didn't lie
when I told you I was ruined
by my own thoughts and actions
Maybe I was too stucked up
with the idea of making things up
to cover up the truth.

Like constantly saying
"all my writings are mere imagination
not expression"
or "I don't care,lol".

None of you has probably
been able to prove to me
that what I was going through,
the whole scene was reality
that I had to live with
I needed a physical black and white document,
to literally slap me in the face
telling me that I was mentally sick
and now I am recovering.

You, me, them,
we have all successfully doubted my abilities
to become a nonsensical creature
or more like an empty glass jar
with the lid tightly closed.

In all honesty,
I still feel like
this is all made up shit I put myself into
to become 'phenomenal',
what a crappy idea to hold success.

Here's a few maybes;
maybe I did love the people I said I didn't,
maybe I knew the answers
but I wrote chicken poop instead,
maybe I'm sane.

Decieving isn't it?
How she could be so real yet still so lost,
so clear yet still so branchy,
so honest yet still so mysterious.
And I am writing this,
at 3.20a.m thinking with my eyes closed,
snugging in my fav hoodie and socks.

- February 18, 2017 / flyingrascals