Suppose

I suppose I could expose my soul to the world,
And like spineless jellyfish they would crowd around it...
Maybe they would forgive the messy aura that surrounds it...
Maybe they would expose the raw flesh beneath the skin
And open the wounds I've struggled so hard to keep locked.
I suppose I could offer my beating heart on a platter,
Add some salt on the wounds and move forward like I've always done...
Without feeling, without fear, without any desires.
Maybe they'd take a bite and send it back to the chef
And demand a refund for their wasted time.
I suppose I could show them what I am made of,
And pull out the cobwebs from within my veins...
Maybe I could stop the negativity they project
And save myself so simply by refusing to conform to their standards...
Perhaps I'd succeed in saving my soul.
I suppose I could allow them to see me as I am,
Uncensored and completely candid...
Maybe then one could find something worth it...
Worth the effort and the energy they extend to others.
Nah, I don't care.

I suppose I could do many things, to make the ignorant masses give a shit,
But at the end of the day I don't even care about the nonsense they say...
But I suppose I could try to say I'm okay.
Nah, they don't care.