My Letters

Just yesterday I saw my own death in a dream
Life’s never quite as bad or good as it may seem
I don’t want anyone pretending that they care
I don’t remember seeing any of you there
Something I’ve tried writing down
First in pencil then in pen
Something I’ve cried hard about
But you don’t understand me then
Somehow I can’t write it out
With a pencil or a pen
Read my letters
Leave my answers alone
Sometimes I try to write out good things that I see
The way they sound there’s no way you’d believe it’s me
I’m always never very understood so well
But when I’m hiding something everyone can tell
I dread these days when nothing I can do is fun
I count my choices up and there’s exactly none