sometimes, the pages
of life don't ripple like
they should.
they get bent, torn,
stuck, worn out
or even flipped
backwards at times.

(life being cruel and all.
what is it like
to not remember anymore
like Alzheimer patients?
what does it feel like
to be wiped off
those small smiling moments
or those huge 'aha' moments
or those dreams
by it's permanent eraser )

the feeling
of sadness
feels bare
on my soul.

I'm weird.

I find myself
crying for people
I've never met

and making friends
with people
you'd rather avoid-
junkies, rebels,
punks, losers,
sucidals,
misfits because
I find them comforting

me? I'm the social prick
I argue with people
who waste paper, and
wear fur

and getting into fights
with people wasting food

(sounds lame doesn't it?)

they only retort back, telling me
its their life
my so-called friend
whispers in my ear 'forget it,
nothings going to change'

(and I yell in my head
"at least I'm trying")

and even though some days
are harder to get by than the others
I still try to smile perfectly
clasping hard onto the book of my life,
and my fingers manage to turn over
to the next page.