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Literature Text
Stop
Pretending you're a saint.
You're not
You're all
The same.
Stop
Pretending you accept.
No one ever will
No one ever has
I know.
Stop
I can't see.
Through the wall of white
Through the tangled words
Right now.
Stop
Pretending you want honest.
Subjectivity
Is not subjective
The flaw.
Stop
Pretending you see right through.
From the first iteration
From the first of impressions
You failed.
Stop
I can't see
Through the wall of white
Through the tangled words
Right now.
It doesn't matter what's true
It doesn't matter what's false
What matters is how I see it
You know that
And you do it anyway.
Pretending you're a saint.
You're not
You're all
The same.
Stop
Pretending you accept.
No one ever will
No one ever has
I know.
Stop
I can't see.
Through the wall of white
Through the tangled words
Right now.
Stop
Pretending you want honest.
Subjectivity
Is not subjective
The flaw.
Stop
Pretending you see right through.
From the first iteration
From the first of impressions
You failed.
Stop
I can't see
Through the wall of white
Through the tangled words
Right now.
It doesn't matter what's true
It doesn't matter what's false
What matters is how I see it
You know that
And you do it anyway.
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Lately people have been walking into me even when I'm not in the way. I don't understand why, because I'm smaller than most people. Sometimes all I can remember about anything is this wall of white inside my head, and I either can't talk or I repeat myself over and over again. This makes people think I'm stupid. I've been judged a lot for how I act sometimes, to the point of actual rejection, even from people who aren't supposed to judge you.
Lately I've had so many words in my head (meaning stuff I need to write) that I can't write them all, and when I do manage to write some of them, I think of more. And I can't ignore them because I can't think of anything else. It's kind of annoying.
I'm thinking of this one thing I thing I wrote a long time ago, and it goes like this: "He was only as big as the world allowed him to be, and here he felt very, very small". I can't remember what it's from. This Grey Path I think it is.
Lately I've had so many words in my head (meaning stuff I need to write) that I can't write them all, and when I do manage to write some of them, I think of more. And I can't ignore them because I can't think of anything else. It's kind of annoying.
I'm thinking of this one thing I thing I wrote a long time ago, and it goes like this: "He was only as big as the world allowed him to be, and here he felt very, very small". I can't remember what it's from. This Grey Path I think it is.
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Comments16
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People tend to talk about me. You know? Treat me different. I hate it. Then, people ask me why I'm so distant. Why I'm so different. And it hurts to hear that. People also reject me for the way I am, but because of this, I refuse to speak. 
Yes, I'm actually very quiet, and that causes people to hate me.....
I'm very 'shy' so I can't speak loudly. The fact that I refuse to speak at times also goes with why I can't speak loudly. "Stop Pretending you're a saint. You're not You're all The same." <--That's why People call me stupid. I refuse friendship at times
But who could blame me?
Yes, I'm actually very quiet, and that causes people to hate me..... I'm very 'shy' so I can't speak loudly. The fact that I refuse to speak at times also goes with why I can't speak loudly. "Stop Pretending you're a saint. You're not You're all The same." <--That's why People call me stupid. I refuse friendship at times But who could blame me?