Don't Call Me

The new messiah
I am old
wrinkled hands
nineteen years
is all it took
for this pain
to shrink into a box
and fade away
put your hands up
and pray the new way
pray to yourself first
before praying to me
I am my own God
I make my own decisions
the echo of my emotions
the karma that I control
I wish
upon a star
that she'll wake up
and say "Hello"
to the new secrets
that life in a box provides
and I lay here
beside myself
waiting for the moment of truth
when they all realize
it was me
all along
waiting for their thoughts
life is a shell
tiny and small
and what I want is
two people to speak with me
tell me that they know what I say is true
but that won't happen will it
I won't get my apostles
because all I am
in the end
is crazy