"Notebook"

After all this time I spent crying
Curled up with this notebook---
My only confidant---
I've come to hate it.

Everything in this book is a lie.
None of it's real, and none of it's right.
All this time,
Wasted,
Wishing to die...
None of these words were even mine.

My poetry is not private.
My poetry is a filthy thing.
Because I have been lying,
And I have been naughty.

Everything in this book is a lie.
None of it's real, and none of it's right.
All this time,
Wasted,
Wishing to die...
None of these words were even mine.

I feel filthy!
Dirtying the pages,
As if searching for my own sympathy!
This is awful!
All this angst killed my creativity!

Everything in this book is a lie.
None of it's real, and none of it's right.
All this time,
Wasted,
Wishing to die...
None of these words were even mine.

Put the notebook down.
You're only going to hate me.
Put the notebook down.
There's stuff you should not have to read.
Put the notebook down.
And let me burn it, please.