I don't know why I should be crying all the time My emotions are a big apple tree And it's like all the apples have rotted and fallen off Except for the ones that dictate sadness Everything's a crime Everybody's a critic All fingers point at me as they boo hysterically Saying I'm not fit for anything Not acting, not writing, not walking, not breathing I dance like a charm but no one turns a head To look at the trick I've turned on them I can be as far away as I want to be in my little mind But it goes unnoticed because they're already away Sometimes I just sit there and say my name Stacey And I can't believe that this is me It sounds like some stranger's name The stranger I was born to be And born to die, alone, in a tormenting confusion I've created for myself
4/13/01
