What If

I'm a softy
And I loftily throw my feelings around.
They bounce through my head
Until they turn up dead
And I'm just left standing there,
Unsure and misread.

I can't play this act
I can't seem to keep my pact.
I don't want to feel like this,
But it's my contemplation,
My imagination,
That keeps my rolling with this
Fragmentation.

I hate this part
Of myself. It's an art
To be this much of a fool,
And fall behind a tool
Who doesn't realize he's more
Harm than good.

I'm in pain,
I'm deranged,
I can't keep myself sane.
I'm hurting myself with these feelings
Oh well. I keep myself reeling.
I just want to get
Out of my head. Soon again,
I will be brain dead.

I don't know how to deal with this.
I spent all my life avoiding it.
I don't want to care so much it hurts.
Especially when I can't speak these words.
I need to move on, to keep going strong,
But that one part of my keeps asking
"What if you're wrong?"