What is it that I am always doing so wrong?
Examples aplenty on a list far too long,
the Gods were at odds on the day I was born,
there’s no rhythm at all to such a raw theme song;
Who it is that I am always trying so hard to be?
Far too many deficits to cover up cosmetically,
existence has become a painful part of reality,
while persistence has cursed and forsaken me;
Where was I expecting to eventually find myself?
Lost inside of a pressurized ideal of someone else,
a multi-faceted turnstile to open the gates of Hell,
a revolving mirrored door that doesn’t work too well;
What is it that I am always trying to prove?
A stranger to the things that the normal people do,
anger and resentment, with deep abandonment issues,
keenly aware of the fact that I epitomize The Recluse.