I heard things they said about me
one time they called me for being too much,
one other time, it’s all about my illicit brain.
Then there was one who had me around,
just to leave the “you’re too difficult” mark on my face.
Another time, it was different…
or perhaps I thought it’s different.
They said it was not okay to talk too much about life.
Life is there for you to just, there. Being.
“you’re overthinking, get over it”
I walked through the glass ceiling,
trapped within the nuisance I made myself up,
I thought the idea of everything in this world
all the things I offered to you,
all the perfection I built for you,
and it will never ever be enough anyway.
What you’re gonna do?