Poetry by YP: "I can't feel"

Daggers in my mind,, I’m not as sharp as think

Cause I’m Medicating pain like my doctor was a drink

Dashing through my past as tears run down my cheek

Its only been a couple days but I’m still feeling week

I can’t explain what I’m feeling, I guess that’s what explains it

My heart looks like a burning building after a plane hit!!!

I keep claiming my baggage, that’s why I can’t carry on

How do I change my sour grapes into Don Pierreon

Feeling inadequate, Life I’m mad at it

How bad can a habit get when half of it is hacking it to your brain’s main frame to attack at it

by tracking it, constantly telling your conscious your lacking it

What is it? That’s the trip,

something that is inside of me slowly coming to the surface, but it's not a Zit

I know it's like pain, or maybe even more

I was rich in friends, but than true feelings always show that I am really poor

I tried to use my brain, but feelings make you brain into another storm

I keep thinking I’m a Wiz but I’m not in Kansas anymore

Constantly trying to manage my image and how I’m perceived

But I do that so much, now I don’t even know what I believe

Now all I do is Fall like I’m jumping into leaves

Stuck in this rat race, feels like I'm running on my knees

And I'm managing these girls just to manage my Woman

Is She jealous? or are there fish in the sea while I’m swimming

Love always looks good from my balcony, it welcomes me

But when I meet love on the street she seems to have it out for me

I guess my heart's been scarred and didn’t heal properly,

Now I’m feeling mediocrity and watch the Past Go like monopoly

And now I don’t know my true self cause my surface is a mockery

I feel like my feelings sneak into my brain like private property

Feeling not good enough , feeling weak as hell

But at least I’m displaying my emotions like its show and tell

I used to blow up and explode, I couldn’t handle Hell

Or listen to music while trying to get hammered without the nail

But these things are poison, they taint the man that’s pure

I need God’s healing hands, I don’t care for a man to cure 

I can’t express the stress that lives in the depths of my emotional tests

Some times my personal prayers sound like hypocritical guess

Just spelling my pain, always finding Me in the middle of Mess

I just want to quit and watch my peace get took like I’m losing in chess

Now I’m on standby, with emotions and red eyes, that’s just the Jet life

Thought doing nothing was insurance, but I’m learning how I’ve never really Met Life

How I put myself on a platter, now I’m fighting over every meal

This world will freeze you still, since when did goose bumps learn to kill?

I can't stop digging deeper using homicide drills

We don't need drugs, our own thoughts are suicide pills

So I did ya’ll a favor, I showed you my soul so you could finally see something real!!!

Now do Me a favor, and just teach me how to feel...

YP