This is something i just started writing... with no inhibitions at all... just freestylin' to a beat... wow I love angry-white-girl-emo/rap!!!

A Walking Contradiction

It took me six hours to eat that Darn it! pomegranate. My tongue burned cran-apple, typed in your name, it said “access granted”. *******! You always felt the way you felt, You always made me crazy, just the way you smelled. Nothing is clear, and everything’s hazy. Now my knuckles are starting to melt. We all pretend to be crazy. Of course the rhymes are forced. I never could write, not like you, but look; what a sight: See, I’m the uncertain one, sitting on the horse. I’m looking straight ahead, you’d think I’d know, but then again, we and I put on a show; the real me might just be dead. The only issues that I’ve got, are things I’d rather not, ever tell you or anyone about, I’m in and then I’m out, but I’m not going to leave without, that happy ending. What I know is bending, into something I don’t recognize, self disgust can be heart-rending, but I can’t get enough of my own eyes. Everything I say, is a contradiction in a way, to everything I know, so I’m never going to grow. I’m tired of explaining, you and I are never going to learn, I’m tired of complaining, it’s your turn to burn, in the heat of my concern. I’m a walking contradiction. And not the good kind. My non-existent affliction, is just plain stupid, like life from behind. It’s pathetic, like cupid. Nothing anybody says can please us, and we don’t believe in urban legends like jesus. So there! Who’s being difficult? I never got too worked up, about being hypocritical. I don’t care! Walk away from me! I never let myself believe, that I could hurt anyone but me. Only swear words rhyme with fruit. I made a loop-de-loop, no, a fruit loop, by the way, to draw attention away from WATERMELON is the answer! I should have been a Cancer. I want to write a book about romance or, maybe angst or, crap I’ll never be a dancer! But I’ll call it the fighting pineapple. Now I’ve got to say Snapple. But yeah, That’s a million-dollar name, at least in my domain. I’m not cool enough to be crazy. Being misunderstood is in. And being brilliant, but sad and lazy. They try to make you think they’re crazy, crazy beautiful, or lazy pitiful, anything to feel alive. But I’ll survive, with out your waning affections, all I really need is my reflection, and a great big world to play in, a sweet-smelling bed to lay in, and a peaceful state of mind to stay in. And I can see, the beauty in me, and I do love beauty, but if I can’t be beauty, to anyone but me nevermind! I can’t see. This has gone on, too long, the light, is starting to make me sick, good night, sorry if I made you sick... NOT.