I can't trust myself as far as I could throw myself
honestly I don't think I know myself
i like to say I'm a gentle soul
but then I'll turn around and blow
break a hole in your wall
and I'll say things that would make the toughest man fall
I've got a lot of practice
I hang myself like a tether ball
and smack myself around
left and right
up and down
self dissection, I'm a little frog
oh dear god,
my confession
I don't know myself at all

I'll tell you I believe people can change
at least this week
but next week I'll put that visson to shame
and I won't be phased when you call me out
I'll laugh in that moment
I hold no blame
and imply that I'm f*cken deranged
but next month
late at night in my bed
I'll do another switch and feel bad about it
and I'll wake you up with a late night call
apologizing to you, But I'll do it again next month

I can't tell if I'm right or wrong,
I'm going on 15 years of juggling mine and others thoughts
I don't know if I'm myself, is me even a thing?
sometimes I like to people please too intensely
so I forget who I used to be,
but did I ever even know me?
was that also somebody else
is been awhile since ive just lived with myself
every phase it's like waking up out of a daze
when I'm acting agreeable to that which I hate
and vice versa
one side of me will always agree, and seem timid
very shy , a delicate flower in the breeze, I just might die
next time I'll go ballistic , I'll flip , hit sh*t
tell you to take your opinion where it belongs
to the trash bin

I'll be confidently crazy
I'll be angry , sadistic come here baby
I won't give you time to think before I pillage your brain
but just give it a few days, and I'll be de-deranged

I can't tell myself
or anybody else a thing
because I'm at the point I'm constantly trying to figure out what I really think
and I can't seem to staple myself to my own belief
I catch myself lying
right through my f*cken teeth
like not huges lies
but over time
they build up a big facade of who I am inside
it can be dangerous
people pleasing
I don even know how to feel pleased
too busy pleasing everybody but me

I can't trust myself
not at all
mums the word
because I think I killed the real me
and I never even knew her


© Jada E. Clark