I only know how to exist when I’m wanted.
When I’m seen.
When I’m recognized.
I only know to exist when I exist within a group.
When eyes recognize me,
And greet me, with smiles and laughs,
And waves of hand.
I know only to exist when I am wanted,
When I am needed.
When I am accepted.
When I am take in by the ones who I want to be friends with,
Taken in by those who I long to be friends with.
I know to exist when people call me their friend,
Invite me to parties and to events, to birthdays and to weddings,
I know only to exist when I am needed,
When I feel needed, when I feel accepted.
When I am invited to hang outs and get togethers, when I am invited to sit with them in class and sit with them when class is over,
When I’m invited or accepted when I come to sit with them in the college cafeteria,
Or not flat out ignored, when I stroll on over to listen to their conversations.
It’s the eyes, Chico, they make me feel wanted.
Every day, the world me an offer I can’t refuse,Getting me to trade my self worth,
For the high of a few eyes who acknowledge me as their equal, as their companion, as their friend.
The high of attention. It feels like I sell my soul everyday, as I tell the devil to go ahead and make my day, while taking my soul.
I crave attention. I crave people. I crave a group,
I have craved the high of laughs out of the group ever since I tasted it first, the high of a smile is a different type, a different kind, a different breed.
When I don’t have attention.
When I don’t have those eyes,
When I don’t have those highs,
I spiral.
Into a downward trend,
Into insecurity,
Into madness
Into chaos.
And chaos is what brings me to my brink.
I set myself on fire everyday and be
What they want me to be e everytime I’m not accepted, when I am rejected, when I am Shunned.
I spiral out of control, wallowing in madness and insanity, cutting of parts of myself and adding fake ones just to fit into what the group is like, what they do, what they want me to be
I cut myself open and recreate myself,
Burn myself to ashes and rise anew from the embers like a Phoenix,
But they don’t know what a Phoenix is,
So I don’t know what a Phoenix is,
I’m just another guy with some sleazy,
Innuendo filled jokes,
And even though it goes against Who I am and who I want to be, the high of the eyes is just too much to turn down,
And I re create myself over and over again, loosing myself all the time but gaining the friendships I’ve always craved.
If I don’t get the hit of the eyes, I unravel.
I only know how to exist when I’m wanted.
When I’m seen.When I’m recognized.
The_write_world 