­­­­Meant for more from birth
Carried in satin like a god
I do not envy you
When I succeed it is a surprise
Something met with pride
Due to lack of expectation
The Underdog Advantage
When you succeed it is anticipated
Should have been more
Greater in size and worth
Living up to your destiny
I do not envy your
Royal Disadvantage
In this great race
The start line may begin
With varied handicaps
But the finish line is in turn
Equal distance
I do not believe in Royal Design
We are all nothing to begin with
Nothing simply looks different depending on
Where you're standing.

It's all so simple.
I exist on the terms of
Those who will use me.

I told you that I didn't want to. That I can't control myself.
I made sure you knew so that when I tried to, you'd stop me.
You were supposed to stop me. You were supposed to say no.
I wasn't myself, I don't even know if I'd consider myself responsive.
The only reason I realized what was happening was because
I heard a song, a voice, a familiar tune. Reminding me of who I am.
And who I am should not be someone who sleeps with everyone.
This seems to happen to me a lot, I've noticed.
I don't blame you, I blame myself for trusting you.
Trusting that you'd remember that I didn't want to be with you.
Trusting that you wouldn't take advantage of me.
Trusting that you cared about me enough to just say no.

i know
what i should be saying -
something
along the lines of,
"how dare you
take advantage
of my heart".

but instead,
i find myself
pleading,
"please,
come back once more
and take
all i have left".

I am recycled like a paper bag

who is used over and over again

i tend to carry too much weight

that sometimes I'll begin to break

meaning I can no longer hold all of that weight

and i hope and pray it'll all go away

but it somehow seems to stay.

I stare at the ground, no need for attention.
I don't want them to find me, to fixate on me.
So, I make myself small;
Just a smudge on a camera lens.
I won't make a sound.
Be something... not desired.
Don't show that you're scared.
Try and scare them, anything to shake them off!?
They have a tainted soul, all they do is hurt.
Their hands reach for me.
...Maybe if I wasn't so small, I could yell.
And someone would help me!?!?
But, They already forced their sin
down my throat & hands tight against my windpipe.
Why don't they fear me!?
My psychotic tendency's, nulled by my loss of consciousness.