Talking to self

Joyous people make me sick sometimes Not because they're joyous Nor because they're people But because they're joyous around me Seeing them happy gives me red eyes, a simple person ready to commit crimes I will stomp on your toes I will ruin your photos I will fart near your nose And I'll spill drinks on your clothes I have no control of what's happening Because, like I said it, was an accident. Don't get mad at me for your misfortune Your actions brought this distruction Now reap the repercussions This mirror likes discussions