I'm trying so hard and it's never good enough. I don't even care about my high standards for myself anymore, for I'm lucky to even meet the expectations of others. I'm watching everything that I'd gripped on to for so long and so tightly slip right out of my hands. The worst part is all I can do is sit and watch.

I wasn't sure what to make
of this intergalactic space war.
With flying soldiers in old tobacco tins
and bullets made out of fingers.
I took it upon myself, I suppose
to conscript to this chaos,
upon the fluffy terrain.
Some sort of tyrannous Tyrannosaurus,
with a purple top hat
had taken over the bunk bed fort.

I'd made up my mind.
The only thing for it was a straight "Neeeeee-owwwwwwww"
into the back of the villainous lizard.

My comrade in arms however,
felt I wasn't quite suited for this rampant combat.
Although, his reason I didn't quite agree with;

"You're doing it wrong" he said, rather patronisingly.

I guess my little cousin is less of the kamikaze type and more of the tactical warfare nature.

And there it was again.

As I entered the room, our eyes met, yours icy cold, mine on the edge of tears, and for a moment I thought you knew. I'm not sure what it was... A mixture of disgust, shame, pity, and maybe a bit of understanding. What gave it away? How do you always know exactly what goes one deep within my thoughts?

I'm not a quitter,
But I don't fight in the one's I always lose.

They don't notice the way I look at him.
She doesn't realize that she's tearing me apart.
He doesn't see that I'm trying.








                                                                                                                                              Nobody does.