Drowning in old sorrow
Yet ignoring the extended hands
Utterly selfish to dare expose vulnerability
A deep rooted want to become a-
part of the bleak sky
But, truthfully known the earth-
would be a final resting place

Why does one chose the walkway-
that caresses a personal netherworld?
Each portion of forced effort falls short
Especially in the eyes of the inner perfectionist
My closest friend is a crippling emotion
It sends consistent reminders-
in my dreams-
of my broken
aspirations.

Nightmares are a lingering-
background in my head
Why must detest my own blood?
For it is brimming with the corruption of loathing.
The engraved disappointment-
I grew to be-
Is even repulsed
by the soul within.

*Plaster a grin
and keep it all in.