She is a life, his life
She is his oxygen, his essence
She holds his tongue, she holds his mind
She is his own depression, his lack of light

She is the space between her thighs
She is the promise she didn’t keep
She is the truth she never knew
She is her own depression, her lack of strength

She is the hate that fills my mind, the rage pounding at my temple
She is the blindness that I seek
She is my own depression, my lack of peace

She is the mask we all must wear, the shoes we all must fit
She is the very definition of success yet her soul lies on the bottom
She is the requirement, the unrealistic dream
She is our own depression, our lack of perception

A perfect world is a reality...
A reality inside our heads
It is a dream, a fantasy
something that can be glimpsed in a child's eye
but never touched
A perfect world is a desire we spin ourselves into
An unhealthy addiction
And though we dream
we will never be able to grasp what a perfect world means
We will never fully understand that our lives would be forever rewritten
In a perfect world

In a perfect world there would be no perfection
There would be no need for it
No, the world would not change
Instead... the minds of people would change
The filters would be lifted from our senses
so that we may walk this perfectly imperfect Earth
and look at things the way they ought

Souls shatter all the time
I can hear the remnants crashing down
through the halls of time
My, how I wish they wouldn’t be so loud
And yet
And yet
I love the sounds of brokenness
No matter how old

We all want to be special
We all believe we are special
And that fact is what makes us all
so incredibly un-special