My Life According to Seuss

 

*** This post may contain triggers for others. Please continue with caution. ***

This is my life, my life it is.
It’s not any good in my mind that exists.
I’m not very good. No, I’m not. I’m bad.
I hurt those I love and I know they get mad.

I’m hated at times, of that I am sure.
I’m sure they must want me to leave them for good.
Who would want me? Why would they dare?
Why do they bother to dare to care?

These are the thoughts that fly through my head.
In my head they will stay, until the day I am dead.
They don’t leave me be, leave me be they won’t do.
So, I try to exist with them as bipolar fuel.

But, why? Why must it be the way that it is?
Why must I crap out my life in small bits?
Why must I pathetically try to exist?
Why must I stay when it’s better to ditch?

I’m evil, that’s it! I’m evil I say.
But, evil I’m not. I’m not, I pray.
So, which one is it? The flip, or the flop?
Is it evil, or good, or a mix of the crop?

These are the thoughts that fly through my head.
In my head they will stay, until the day I am dead.
They don’t leave me be, leave me be they won’t do.
So, I try to exist with them as bipolar fuel.

The thoughts make me hurt. They hurt like a bitch.
So, a bitch I become, and treat others like shit.
Why do I do that? Why does it hurt?
Why does the pain make me dish out the dirt?

I try so hard. Hard is how bad I try.
To make my life good and treat all people right.
I try to show love. I love with my heart.
But, it’s never enough. I get pissed and it starts.

I go off on them fast. I can’t stop my own mind.
It happens so fast that my mind has no time.
How do you stop the very thing that’s a mess?
With itself in control, and itself in distress?

Why does that happen? Why must it be?
Why is this brain in ownership of me?
I want it gone. I want it to flee.
I want to be normal. Normal I must be!

But, what is that normal? Does it really exist?
Is it real? Is it fake? Is it all just a trick?
Are we tricked that the world has a radar for life?
A life that is measured from normal to shite?

These are the thoughts that fly through my head.
In my head they will stay, until the day I am dead.
They don’t leave me be, leave me be they won’t do.
So, I try to exist with them as bipolar fuel.

So, what do I do? Do I try or give up?
Do I keep trying hard, or do I free those I love?
Do I let them say goodbye to me, and move on my way?
Move on so far that I free them of my stay?

I would free them of my presence… A presence that is pain.
One that isn’t worth the time in their days.
Why would anyone want this piece of shit around?
I belong in a cave, or in a crack in the ground.

My anger. My pain. My sadness. Myself.
Every bit about me is trouble for all else.
I’m not worth their love. I’m not worth their time.
Their love and their time is worth more than my dime.

These are the thoughts that fly through my head.
In my head they will stay, until the day I am dead.
They don’t leave me be, leave me be they won’t do.
So, I try to exist with them as bipolar fuel.

To all those I love whom I’ve hurt many days.
So much I have hurt you. Why do you stay?
Why do you keep me in your life when I’m this?
This nothingness that wanders and barely exists?

I’m sorry that I’ve hurt so many of you.
I’m sorry I’m a mess and a stain on your shoe.
I’m sorry I exist as I am… an empty shell.
I’m sorry my tries seem to all go to hell.

These are the thoughts that fly through my head.
In my head they will stay, until the day I am dead.
From that day forth, I will live a pain-free life.
But until that day comes, I’m stuck with this mind.