To me, fear is the epitome of her,
Icy cold, blistering, scorching hot.
Indecisiveness, living in a
Nightmare.
Her hand, from which supported me
As I wobbled on my two feet,
That carried me when the world
Was out to get me.

Ironic,
How is has become a weapon,
Along with her mouth,
And I feel like dying...
Every second you are here,
Every sight of you makes me heart
Beat faster.
And I try not to think but I still think I cannot help it.

And the words that come out are from my deepest fears
"*******! Get lost you *******!
Get out and never come back! *******! You pig, you monster..."
And people will think I'm exaggerating, that it's no big deal.
But it is.
And I spend my nights wishing I could die,
Or at least sink into the ground, be buried alive.
Oh I bet she wouldn't notice anyway.

As now I sit in my locked bedroom,
Its half past 1am.
I want to be a filial daughter, return everything
Back to you.
I imagine that would be fun.
For me at least. But for now
I rejoice, I won't be yours anymore.

And this poem, I will
Keep secret, for fear
Of discovery.
For once, you won't own everything.

You have to be the best
You have to be the best
You have TO BE THE BEST

Kaye told me if you repeat something something over and over, it looses its meaning
Growing up I was a very competitive kid
I was raised with this mentality that if you weren't the best
You were worth nothing
"Why did she get 100% ?"
"Why is he faster than you?"
"Does she have two brains? "
"Does he have four legs?" my father often said.
This put me in a continuous race where no matter what happened
I had to be first
No matter what happened, I had to be first
No matter how many times I kept tripping, falling on my face,
No matter how many times life kept beating me to the ground
Waiting for me to get back up only to trip me again.
The best.
We were taught to be the best when none of us knew what it felt like to be good
It was always a battle between more and too much
As a kid, I kept aiming and aiming and aiming
Without really knowing where my target was
Didn't matter. I had to be the best.
I fought with endless ways to get eyes of approval and pride
Forgetting that it is is human nature to never be satisfied.
Enough was never enough
That didn't stop me.
Everywhere I looked, people had stopped running
Whether it was in the middle or the end if the race
We all have a long way to run
However, we shouldn't be allowed to define ourselves by our destination
Because, remember, it's the journey that puts the focus on the finishing line.

Me every single night: I'm gonna go to sleep immediately! Then I be so refreshed in the morning and will get so much done! I'll just check hellopoetry once really quick and then head to bed.

Four hours later: Oh... it's 3AM... and I'm still on hellopoetry... oops. Just one more hour!

In the morning: I hate everything that exists. I am going to die of exhaustion. Rawr. Grrr. No one touch me or I will stab you.

Here you go. You want to hear it, don't you?
For all the space in your handphone I
Wasted sending you
Useless messages,
For how I borrowed you too much,
Ranting on about life, apparently too much,
Because I thought I'd finally found someone who'd
Listen, I guess I thought wrong.

And I sit on my bed, and wonder,
Were you ever the guy I
Thought you were?
Probably not.
While I automatically go about my day,
I keep my phone at hand.
I am yearning. yearning for the sound of bells,
The sound that I reserved for your messages.
Bells ringing, angels.

I used to think of you as my
Little devil,
Bad boy as you were.
****, was I right.
It hurts, you know.
How I opened me out,
Lied spread-eagled on the floor.
Dug out all my secrets, my Achilles heel,
me...I trusted you.
But I was Prometheus and you were the eagle,
You dug my insides out.
Ate them.

And for trusting you,
For believing, even once
That you were the one,

I'm sorry.