cancellations of things unsaid

this long life lived in,
smashed in with large hammers and
radar jammers, smelled up and helled up as we
gel it up with our own way.
can i make it through this day? can
i find my own say even with all that are watching?
concentration is found within, but seen without.
what the hell does that even mean, and
where do i find myself when i actually believe it?
i hear them, yes i do. but how loud how long and how
else do i get by without them by my side? i see the rest
and see the best for me, but cant always
tell the difference. the mess i'm in, i can't win
by myself. but that's the only way i really am, sometimes.
face it, race it, pace it,
decide it, sometimes i'll hide it
but in the end
i can't deny it

but there's hope
fate still has a date with destiny,
this grave robber and cave hobbler, living
from foot to mouth, spreading the disease wherever it please
will someday be dead, and my head
will finally be clear.
so here we are, dear.
just you and me.
question is,
who do you see?