My Own Notion

[TobyVamp]

On my own inhibitions,
I struggled to come forth;
out of my shell,
I feel as though,
existence casts a blind eye towards,
Ignorance.

The morning I left,
I couldn’t find a phone;
no way to call you,
or dial a sense to your mind,
I interrupted the painting of gloom,
to claim this as my own.

Around my nation,
there are houses in glory;
smelling of home cooking,
teenage girls in their under things,
and the massive cruelty innocence has lost,
as pain takes over with a television click.

There is no way to sell,
Myself short for your good;
I only walk around,
taking suicidal walks,
on American household curbs,
leap off or live another day?

Children waving flags,
as I smile softly;
teenagers sporting middle fingers,
like they invented the signal,
crazed middle-agers bitching,
about politics on the five o’ clock news,
there is no returning back to when I was five.

Keep walking down the streets,
I engage a corner tight as a sports car;
each thought of age in time,
gives little remorse to my pretense,
that I can hide from everyone,
who brings me down with their words these days.

I never knew who,
I was trying to contact;
a regret was sullenly there,
passing notes with an,
exquisite whore,
I found my own notion.