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The Other Me
They all ask "What's wrong?", but I ignore it all; for they shouldn't help me, they should just let me fall. I accept the burdens I've placed on myself, and don't intend to share. Everyone I see wants to know my problem, but I personally think they shouldn't care.
I believe by hiding I help everyone I see, because if they stay away they won't risk the chance of meeting the other me. I apologize to those who have already been punished by my spastic anguish and hate, and I hope that everyone else who comes around won't receive the same fate.
I haven't helped anyone, and I don't know why I've tried. I feel if I hide then maybe they would all think I've died. I'll keep on living the life you see, yet I won't let anyone get too involved and be around the presence of the other me.
