On the Brink

So much of what I think is on the brink.
So much of what she thinks is colored pink.
So much of what I lie doesn't smile back.
So much of my mind is polluted by facts.
So much of what I say is a mistake,
so much of what I write will never be heard,
So much of what I think will never make it
out of my mouth.
So many of us will never make it out of our parent's house.
So much of the world is absurd,
and so many cries will never be heard,
and I know I never learn,
I know I never learn to think,
I think things sigh at my despise,
I think so much despise of me.
My mind rots with words I shouldn't speak.
So much of my life is on the line.
So many see through my weak disguise.
So many lies I wish weren't mine
come by to confine their peace in me,
their will to speak,
my own to sleep,
our own ability to be sheepish,
suddenly, I'm sleepless.
I should own the lies,
after all, they're mine
all mine to throw at my mind in the night.
To make me upset over "Kitchen Sink",
so much of what I think is on the brink.