Better.
Something I aspire to be.
When the weight of the world comes crashing down upon my shoulders I want to handle the situation better.

I see them become better everyday.
Whether it's their hair or their shoes,
Something is always better.

Better is a plague.
Better makes me feel weak.
Yet I find myself constantly trying to be better.

The world is toxic.
Be better, be beautiful, be perfect.
The words are engraved in my conscious.

Be better.
The words cascade me like cement,
Encasing me in a chrysalis of self hatred.

I must be better.