Fears

Polar molars

Holy bowlers

Hanging chads and diesel rollers

Hand in hand with my controller

I feel like I’m getting older

But certainly not getting bolder

I’ve got a chip on my shoulder

Towards those who try to change me

Rearrange me

It just serves to estrange me

I feel strange

Deranged

Free range chicken

I wish I wasn’t so frickin mad

And sad

And bad

I’m glad I’m not dead, at least

It’s all in my head, at least

I feel like I should go to bed, at least

For a while

How many muscles does it take to smile

A few?

That’s a few too many

There isn’t any benefit to trying

To keep myself from crying

When I think

How much I’ve made things stink

For the people I love

I hurt and I shove

And I mess things up

I’m one sick pup

I pour myself a cup

Of coffee, sugar, and cream

I think about the dreams

I have at night

And they don’t feel right

To demonize someone who isn’t here

But she always filled me with fear

Fear of disappointing her

And making her angry