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I'd rather disappear than be seen. I'd rather be on my two feet, than lean. I'm quiet and shy and hardly speak; And when I'm around people, my knees grow weak. I'm more of the loner, than a social butterfly; And almost every day i wonder what it'd be like to die. I'm weird and creepy, to those who don't know. And to those who do, leave me there alone. I hate being stereotyped. I hate being put under a category I'm not in; and even more so, I hate what I've always been. Over look me, because i don't matter. Forget me, because I'm nothing but a ghost. Erase me, because i'm just pencil marks on paper. Don't cry for me, i'm not who you'll miss most. Forget that i ever existed; And make yourself happy. Believe me, it'll make me die happy. Crysta.Brianne.Cook. 11.11.1994.<br />
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Myself:<br />
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