i placed my stress in a blender
to make it easier to swallow,
but all i do is wallow in regret.

it hurts to breath when
no one can see you doing so,
but i won't lay down my arms.

i work desperately for innate satisfaction,
but my utter need for validation
makes my effort drown in vain.

but once again, i live at the bottom of the chain,
yearning for a hand to pull me up,
but pity is easier to swallow than pride.