You

Feel nothing, See Nothing, Hear nothing, Sense nothing, That’s you, Feel everything, See a lot, Hear majority, Sense more than you can imagine, That’s me, What I see, You don’t. What I feel, You mustn’t What I hear, Your deaf to, What I sense, You haven’t the faintest clue. . . I am wasting my time, Or am I? I’d like to know, Rather sooner, Than later. I could give up, But I won’t. Why? Because I’m not Like you, Fight ‘til the end. Never stop, Never mend, Always pretend, ‘Tis my reality, Although it often seems that; Like a nightmare, Of which I can run as fast and as long as I want, but not escape. I could escape if I wanted to, But the pain is more than, More than that of a million blades, Blades that leave a labyrinth of red streaks, Sadistic it may seem, but the pain is the only way, To get sense of what is reality, And not a dream, I have a soft side, Buried somewhere inside, Open your eyes, See where I bleed, It’s there, Always, Never waning, Always growing, Growing wider, Growing stronger, Growing longer, Growing tougher to control, I ask not much, Your love, Your affection, Your desire, In the end, It is I, It is I that is selling you short, All I have to say is, I’m sorry, But why bother, You don’t care, You don’t; Never care, Never Feel, Never See, Never Hear, Never Sense, And for that, I am truly sorry, Though it be not my fault, Only the fault of your past.