Izzy Mitchell...

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
No, no I won't let you in.
Because this house of mine
Is mine
And the roof is caving in. 
 

So call me a loudmouth,
Call me wrong. 
Call me irrational, yet withdrawn. 
Call me a fool, say I’m a freak. 
But the least that you could do is speak. 
So call me a loudmouth,
It isn’t fair.

Because the day turns in,
And the nights get heavy,
And I can’t silence my brain.
And everyday
I’m getting more unsteady,
Wondering if I’m to blame.

And maybe its because I’ve never been this far,

If you don’t mind my danger,
Or unpredictable anger,
When you meet this stranger
That’s inside of me. 

Tangled mess of little lies,
Upset stomach, butterflies. 
I’m scared that when you realize,

I’ve grown tired of happy endings.
Too big for dress up and pretending.
The masks that we live behind become our faces, 
but illusions can’t fill empty spaces.

I went out to my treehouse.
I pulled off all the rope.

I wish I could be mad at you,
it would be easier that way. 
Then I would move on from this
and I could avoid the pain. 
Because if you don’t reciprocate
my current mental state,
please don’t put me through this