Reluctantly Toxic Me

I feel like I am full of pollution.
I feel like I am a hazard.
I feel like coming into my space is criminal,
And stupid.
So I urge you,
In fact I warn you not to.
None of it I choose,
Being this tempestuous mess,
Reluctantly I carry this storm of a burden,
That can suck you in and spit you out,
Therefore I am a vile specimen,
I am not sure when and how it began,
Or when it will end.
I want to contribute,
I want to aid positive change,
I want to erase stigma,
I want to be good,
I want all of my hurt,
All of my pain,
To manifest into something utterly brilliant,
God like,
But I’m lurking in the shadows,
I’m not on the horizon,
And I’m not on the radar.
No one believes in me,
And I don’t believe in myself.
How come some people are just lucky and land on their feet?
It’s funny,
Some people say my spirit animal is feline,
But I’m pretty sure that I don’t have nine lives,
And if I do,
Each one of them has been pretty terrible,
Because if you think about it,
If every soul has nine lives,
Then it kind of works in circulation,
Where in some lives you will peak,
And others you will trough,
But my deja-vu’s do not suggest that I have ever peaked,
My scars,
My weighed down shoulders,
The shackles around my ankles,
And the handcuffs tightened around my wrist,
Suggest that I have suffered,
That I know pain,
But that’s what makes me a dreamer,
I dream about love,
I dream about soul mates,
I dream about creation,
I dream about a world where I am no longer a misfit,
Where I don’t fit into a category where if I was on fire,
No one would even piss on me.
I have a spark,
I have substance,
It just needs turning on,
The light went out a long time ago.
I keep etching on my bedpost,
Everytime I fuck up,
And everytime I get back up,
I am a little bit weaker,
And everytime I get back up,
I believe in myself that little bit less,
And just like if you don’t believe in fairies and clap for their lives,
If you don’t believe in me,
Then my genius I won’t realise,
And I won’t create and conquer,
Contribute what I am supposed to,
Because I am not a lone soldier,
I need an aid,
I need a crutch,
Prop me up,
Show that you care,
Hold my hand,
Show that you believe,
Give me unconditional love,
And I will produce so much magic to put out there.
If I carry on like this,
I imagine it won’t be long before I no longer exist,
The pain cuts deep,
And I feel so weak,
I am giving up,
Because I’ve had no luck,
Maybe my passion is just for me,
Like my psychosis,
Something that nobody else understands,
And or will never see,
I forgo my legacy,
For the next life,

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