"Happy New Year!" they say
as they sip their champagne.
Each bubble,
last year's sorrow,
to be lost in the new tomorrow

Let the new year ring out
as they kiss and laugh and shout.
Each balloon,
is a latex vessel for resilience,
feeding the emotion coloured chameleons.

As if the "new year, new me" attitude
should terminate the blues and
help us to forget the cold, harsh, truth.
No matter what the new year's resolution,
there will be no retribution.

Blanket off my cold body.
Tiptoe towards the warm coffee
Fill the purple mug to the top
Savour each and every drop.

The perfect beginning

Blink.
I close my eyes,
but the tears don't come out.
Because a girl who has it all,
shouldn't pout.

Blink.
Skip to the 1960's scene,
cheesy music playing.
Just a movie in my head,
a childhood memory decaying.

Blink.
It's worse than feeling numb,
it's a drought.
Because the ability to express oneself,
is not something one can go without.

Blink.
Pieces are missing,
messages not relaying.
The gaslighting so loug,
I can't hear what everyone is saying.

Blink.
How to separate the truth,
the act of torture lies in doubt.
But a girl who appears to have it all,
shouldn't pout.

When I was 6 years old,
I was told I was too much.
Keep it to yourself they'd scold,
you're unlikeable, not bold.
Unique is the opposite of gold,
so my personality took a toll.
And no matter how much strength I would hold
Nobody liked me,
so I had to fold.

I was left out when I was in grade eight.
Apparently I changed myself too late.
I did everything for everyone
hoping for a clean slate.
Yet I'd already met my fate.
There was no retake,
only resentment and hate.
I needed distraction,
so I started to fill my plate.

Highschool came and on a platter,
was a fresh start.
And for a second I'd thought old me and new me had grown apart.
I made friends like it was an art.
The warm feeling of care
began to fill my heart.
That's when the dead persona came back,
like a poison dart.
And everything I had built, fell apart.

A joke,
does not cause this much pain.
And what you broke,
will never be the same.

We are taught as girls,
don't be the temptation.
Keep your hair in pretty curls,
and don't be the abberation.

Don't ask for a man's respect,
he'll offer what you deserve.
And never should you forget
only he can tell your worth.

I'm not that girl -
who everyone appreciates.
Nobody seems to care,
no matter how much grievance I do alleviate.
So even though
I give and give,
still I cannot find,
one clear and simple reason,
I should continue my own life.

Throughout my life so far,
I've focused on everyone else.
Giving everything I had,
while neglecting only myself.
But I'm running out of things to give.
Of time, and energy, and care.
So ever so slowly, I'm fading
and you're still there taking,
until you finally realize,
what pain I've been masquerading.

The ball of yarn
that I've kept for many years,
has officially unravelled,
presenting all my greatest fears.

For years I had them bundled,
neatly in a ball,
and it wasn't until recently,
I couldn't continue to stall.

This wasn't caused my me,
as why would I begin,
to unravel a flawless system,
in that I see no win.

But it was the cat who caused the chaos.
The cat of death and sorrow,
bringing endless pain and hurt,
until I could no longer see a tomorrow.

He pulled my life all out of wack,
taking a once single untangled string,
and creating a mess of loose ends,
which he then began to fling.

Out with routine,
out with content,
innocence is destroyed,
and here is a perfectionist's descent.