A flower.
So pretty and pink.
Free to roam.
Met a light blue one.
The light blue was the only other kind she's met.
Pink fell for Blue's Charm.
Time passed on.
Pink and Blue made a little pastel purple.
Pink is distressed.
Blue keeps wanting to leave.
Pink wonders if she should just end it all.
Pink is tired and feels alone.
Pink just wants peace.
Maybe Pink should find her peace.
So Pink takes a knife and leaves.
Blue never knew.
Blue went to look for Pink an hour later.
All he saw was Pink in the back yard.
On the ground withering away.
Bleeding out slowly.
Blue took her into his arms one last time.
Pink looked at him.
She said. "I love you Blue."
She closed her eyes and floated to peace.
Blue lost Pink.
Blue lost his hope in life.
His dream.
Pastel Purple.
He didn't get to be a father.
He went to find the same knife Pink used.
He stabbed himself.
Laid next to Pink and Purple.
Closing his eyes wrapped around her.
Bleeding out.
A flower.
So pretty and pink.
Dainted in red and sorrow.

My mom always wanted perfection.
I wanted to be perfect but I couldn't.
No matter how I tried.
I couldn't ace it.
I got depressed.
I craved perfection.
I hate this part of my identity.
I want to be perfect.
I wanna be seen as perfection.
My mom hates me cause I'm not perfect.
I can't be myself no matter how much I try.
I grew up with this pain.
Now that I've grown up.
I'm gonna be myself and not care about other people's opinions.
So my question is was perfection another barrier for my mother?
Why couldn't she love me for me?
Does she hate me that much?
Those are questions she won't answer til this day.

The world's end
The world's end is near.
That is very clear.
It's like a blackness or darkness ******* me in and I enjoy every piece of it.
It's very comforting.
I see the fire.
The burning flames.
The chaos.
Everything turning to ashes.
It's not pretty.
The grass is dying and now is a black pond of dirt.
The echos of people dying is overwhelming and I sit down and look around.
The orange sky hitting my eyes with a passion.
It's not a good thing.
The roses dying slowly.
The crowd gasping for air.
The world's end is finally here.
And I'm here to witness it.

Obedience
The word makes my mouth feel weird.
What is it there for.
It is it really there to help with discipline.
Or is it there to make you a tool for society.
Is to maintain you from being yourself.
Or does it suppose to balance it out.
I don't know at this point.
While I was a kid, obedience made me a toy to society.
and held me back from myself.
I grew up resenting everyone who could be themselves wishing I was free.
But finally I have that freedom I crave.
Obedience.
What is it for?