I feel tired
The flame inside me is burning out
I'm lacking the motivation to continue
My mind is raging with insecurities and doubt

Sleepless nights
Lying awake at two
Wondering what will become of me
Why is it all I can see is blue?

Why is that I can never be good enough for you?

"You're not trying hard enough."
You don't know anything about me.
You say I'm not giving it my all
But in my efforts I am drowning

Why can't you be nicer to your siblings?
Why? Because you never taught me how to love.
You raised me to fear the consequences
To fear closure and to suspect kindness and all of the above

Unlike me, she is perfect
A flawless figurine
An ideal fit for your mold
Something I've tried my whole life to achieve

The moment she was born she captivated your hearts
Unlike her, I am not a perfect child
I have had to work myself to a breaking point for your praise
All she had to do was smile

I will never be good enough for you
My efforts will all prove worthless
You will never look at me the way you do her
To you, I will always be a disappointment of a person

Sometimes I wonder,
What it is liked to be loved for you
And not for what you can do and not for what you can give
Sometimes I wonder what it's like to not feel so...

alone.

My thoughts are a river
Constantly whirling, flowing out and in
Raging and spiteful as the ocean storms
As tranquil as paper in the wind

My mind is a hardened lake
Glazed over by the presence of winter
The surface as fragile as my being
One misstep and the ice will splinter

In this frozen lake I gaze
Staring at the empty faces of my "friends"
Their intentions as artificial as their smiles
Gratefully accepting help but theirs they will never lend

When I am alone
My mind spins into motion
I am trapped inside of this place
Suffocated by the chains of my own emotions

There is no one who cares enough to notice
Too busy caught up in their own disasters
Their absence is drowning me
Dragging me down faster and faster

Then is all is silent.

In the frozen lake I gaze
Staring at my own reflection
Ignoring the little that is good
Emphasizing every imperfection

I cannot fathom the amount of courage
It would take to reflect upon myself and see
The real villain was never them ...


it was me.

A child squirms at her desk,
tapping her foot impatiently on the classroom’s marble floor.
Her cadence mimics that of the smiley-face clock,
hanging above the whiteboard,
its perfect smile mocking her.
She can't wait for the bell.

A young girl strides across the stage,
smiling brilliantly at the roaring sea of faces.
Her diploma clutched in her hand,
reveling in her accomplishment,
the thundering applause invigorating her.
She can’t wait for her future.

A woman sinks into the seat of her car,
her temple creased by the workplace monotony.
The car sputters alive at her touch,
gripping the wheel,
the soft hum of the engine calming her.
She can’t wait to go home.

An older woman rests in bed,
her weathered hands folded delicately on her stomach.
Vibrant hues paint the placid sky,
its tranquilness lulling her to sleep.
She wishes to wait for the sunset.