Tripping Over Me

I'm not good at being a person, but I've told myself that doesn't matter so long as I'm a good human being,

But I've been pulled out of my delusions of good intentions by what I'm seeing 

It's the thousandth time I've tried and the thousandth time my intentions and the results are disagreeing

I spent the past three decades trying to learn your rules

I spent my whole life with your people, working your jobs and went through your schools

And found myself on the other side still with no tools

So I thought I'd be okay to resign myself to tumbling through your world as I trip over me,

And for the longest time and even still now to a degree,

That resignation made me feel so incredibly free

My brain's perpetually loud and always racing yet, my mouth and actions, always a second behind

I spend hours reflecting on why I do what I do, say what I say, but an explanation is something I can never find

This is where there's such a freedom and such a curse to being resigned

But my apathy towards the world you've built doesn't free me from caring about you 

So I still try to serve from outside the standard you'd hold me to

While my ghost of cluelessness blinds me from the damage I cause until the consequences are due

All I saw were smiles when I was surrounded by dread,

Heard laughter as for their lives they pled,

I didn't even know I was holding a gun when I shot them dead

Still, I swear I'm not as crazy as you'd think, I'm just riddled with trauma and anxiety 

You can have what suspicions you will, I fight for and celebrate my sobriety 

Then again, a lot of good it is when whatever I do and wherever I go, I'm still a cancer on society 

I dragged myself along a long road of poor decisions and depression 

And now, helping others fight their wars has become an obsession

I get closer and closer, higher and higher until, happening before I could see, I've pushed myself into regression 

I cut my own wings on the way up, the limit has to be lower than the sky 

Where is there hope and what is hopeless to try?

What can and what can I not be and why?

I think I'm building something better when all I'm doing is hurling debris

I'm infuriatingly stubbornly a survivor, so I somehow never foresee,

But every time, I walk, I jog, I run a hundred miles just to trip over me