who the hell are you

to tell you the truth im a liar
why you may ask it seems dire
its not that i hate truth
its just to be loved that i aspire

i will do anything to save face
so i shine like problems ive solved
and i appear to have magnanimous  grace
but really im not very evolved

ive see  the map of my soul
and for every good moral feature
theres a black vacuous  hole
im just a short sighted creature

my personality is stressed
i make up for it with guile
but i smile and call it finesse
if you knew me youd think me a pile

then theres the struggle with money
i have a job in Satan's mill
i do it for pussy and honey
and work til im over the hill

youll find that im a big talker
but really have nothing to say
secretly im a stalker
the women keep me at bay

then theres the place that i live
im not very clean or neat
its got lots of books and art
but this house it  smells like feet

how about creativity
lets throw it into the mix
oh yes i adore the minds diamonds
truth is im full of tricks

ok what about health
i really try to stay fit
eat right and work out
but sometimes still feel like shit

oh yeah im in relationship
we love each other well
its often like porcupine wrestling
you'd swear its a living hell

i covet secrets so dark and deep
i try to charm you with a smile
please don't find out im a creep
my claws i sharpen with a file

i crave long distance travel
to see the world by plane
im multi cultural
but the french think im a pain

how about having a career
looking smart through all the days
with my nose to the endless grind stone
i work blurry in a daze

ode to the  collective mind
a constant source of stress
floating in the amorphous field
there will never be any rest

oh finally  the place i love the best
subjectivity  and the pleasures of bed
where all my dreams  glitter
and i think what ever i said

trapped in three dimensions
a cauldron of witches brew
im livin the dream, some body else's
and who the hell are you
 

This poem is about: 
Me

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