I Am

You wouldn't understand this post unless you were listening to "Don't You Evah" by Spoon. To "Float On" by Modest Mouse. "The World at Large." "Runaway." "Resistance." ETC. Just ask me for my playlist.

But it isn't any use. You never understood me anyways. Me or my fur coats. 

I'm a religion. I'm a way of worship. And you belong to PETA with all their fanaticism and bullshit.

I'm a cult. I'm a death sentence. But you still won't find my name in the dictionary or the history books.

Jesus sure knew how to stick it to the man. But I'm not sacrilegious.

Mama always told me that adoration was part of worship, and adore Him I do.

I'm a way of life. I'm a support system. With me, you're allowed to pick the candy off of the gingerbread house. You're allowed to lick your fingers. Forks are for the delicate.

I'm a celebrity. I'm a prophet. And I said "Hello" to Mother Teresa the other day for good measure.

I'm a saint. I'm a sinner. But as long as I'm climbing the staircase to heaven, it's hard to tell the difference.

It's like this.

Just because you celebrate Christmas doesn't make you Christian, but thank God you're trying.

I'm the girl sitting next to you in the computer lab. I'm your imaginary friend.

If you can give me a name, I'll be realler than your hero in the comic book. But even my parents have trouble with my name.

I'm poison. I'm the cure. I'm the boy you never dared to talk to. I'm the girl you kiss behind the bleachers.

I'm a walking contradiction, but at least you're looking for me in the lunchroom like you never used to.

I'm love. I'm rejection. I'm F=ma.
I'm the answer to every question you haven't known how to ask.

And the days will become weeks. And the weeks will become years. 

And I will have to say hello to all the people I would rather say goodbye to.

And you will never be mine.