What's the meaning to being perfect.
when perfect isn't even real.

Jealousy is **** a sick thing.
Waiting, watching in the pit of your stomach until someone is better then you but, that's not the sickness of jealousy.
The sickness is that soon every one is better then you.
Then jealousy will take your life.

The perfect person is someone who excepts everyone for who they are.

Almost every day i feel alone.
No one knows what has happened
No one knows what Ive been through.
Even though i can tell them every thing, they don't understand.
There willing to help, they say there sorry's but
I feel as though the loneliness brings with it masks of smiles.
When all in truth i stand alone with blank faces turned away
I Pick up my masks and be on my way.
but some where deep down inside i know am not alone people surround
me with love and happiness.
I try to join into the fun but the loneliness drags me down.
I walk alone to a empty house.
And almost every day i feel alone.

Counting on people is probably one of the worst things you could ever do.
Puting your hopes and dreams all on one person hoping that they will be there one day.
Telling your secrets to them hoping they wont tell anyone.
Hoping they will be there for you forever or as long as they can.
But right as you need them.
They turn around and walk away saying there tired of all your winning.
Humans are monsters.
Making you believe that you can trust them and that they will be there for you.
In reality they just love making people fall so they can climb higher.

I'm sorry for trying.
I'm sorry for standing up for what I believe in.
I'm sorry for breathing, talking, writing, listening, wondering and for being happy.
I'm sorry that you don't understand that you don't need objects to be happy.
I'm sorry that you don't understand that you don't need loving parents to be happy.
I'm sorry that you don't understand that you don't need a house to be happy.
I wish I could teach you to be happy but, happy cant be taught.
You have to find happy to feel it.
I'm sorry that you don't understand how I can be so happy even when am left with nothing.

I lie.
To everyone.
Every single day.
Telling them I'm ok.