Vain commodities of a life of idiots

Dare I be the only one who feels?

I know this is not true, dare I be the only one who tears?

Internally screaming for separation

And the forever knowledge of our differences

Am I alone?

All too alone.

Am I vain to call myself deep?

No, for deep I am compared to your sparkly pens

Hours spent on your hair

And utter self-absorption

Sickening hatred of a life laid out for me

Sickening hatred of me for which life is laid out for.