The Veil

So she said she wants to know the real me. Alright, I'll give her a glimpse.

I might quite possibly be one of the most idiotic people alive. It's not like I haven't tried. To correct these imperfections. These missteps and second-guesses. But I guess I can't help it.

I'm just never sure.

Cause people ask me all the time. Even in response to one of my rhymes, why are you sad? What is it that you go through? Is it that bad?

Why, yes it is and do you really want to know? Why my smiles never show? Why I take all my pictures in greyscale? Why my favorite color is black? Why I can't be sure if your concern is genuine or an attack?

It's cause every time I have some kind of constant in my life, it lasts for about a minute and then it becomes strife. Because at 17, I was about to make a whore my wife. Because at the tender age of 11, I considered puncturing my throat with a knife.

So that's why.

That's why I'm nearly never happy and why I truly do not care if it shows. I know how this goes. You'll label me depressed and a lost cause anyway. That concern wasn't here to stay.

It was here to judge but it was unneeded. I've already got my sentence.

The path of the misunderstood and the walk of the lonely. You don't know me.

And you don't need to. It'll only burden you. That's not what I want to do.

And maybe one day it'll get better but until it does...

Enjoy the me that you do see. Don't try to understand or bear this hell. Don't you dare take a peek underneath this veil.