I wish I am the chosen one,
the one that is so essential,
can I be better in the future?
I can’t even answer that.

Like a mirrorball suspended in a dimly lit room,
I will only say, “yes!”,
“you can have that” “you can do that”,
I would never say no,
I don’t dare to,
fret that I’ll hurt their feelings,
but did they think the same way?
this time, the answer is yes.

Sometimes, I wish I knew everything,
the scent of uncertainty lingering in the air,
sometimes, I wish I knew nothing,
the taste of regret like bitter coffee on my tongue,
either way, I’m a mirrorball
the one that’s just there,
the gentle hum of unnoticed existence,
no one even notices it,
until they need it.

Like a mirrorball, when it’s break
it’s shattered into a million pieces,
the sound of splintering glass echoing in the silence,
but that’s what makes it shine,
the dazzling light refracting through the shards,
that’s what gives it attention.

Little divested flower,
Shame— how you break with the peak of light.
A blossom they might think,
You're still a phony stick.
Is it guilt filling the scene?
Or is it just the sunbeam?

Be careful of your words
For as they fall, they manifest
In the heart of the receiver
Who's emotionally undressed

Forever a disappointment
Eternally desperate to prove
As piece by piece they realise
If not perfect.............they lose.

Persistence hangs as stalactites
To please, to please, to please
But failure to get it perfect
The pain is never released

Be careful of your words
For as they fall, they manifest
In the heart of the receiver
Who's emotionally undressed

The appetite of a people-pleaser cannot be appeased,

due to the want of satisfying everybody's needs

ill be what you want

whenever you want

I kept trying all these years
To be the standart, to hide my tears
To smile at everyone in the table
I thought I was able
To receive all I gave
To leave the cave
Today I see that's not right
I know who I am, I've seen the light
I'm not lonely, just alone
I don't look at their faces on my phone
I gave up on her, I gave up on him
That's what I mean
It's all over today
And I think I don't have to pay
It's okay to let go
My life isn't anymore a show
Now I understand, at last
That my wild days are past.

Awwww, you're so pure?
Why,        IS it
I                           insist                               upon
complimenting
my                   friends
and they cannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnot
take it
at                all?
I'm dubbed                                   pure
                                          innocent
                                   sweet
                                         How
                                  come?
Am
    I
      just
            a people
                      pleaser?
Terrified                            of                    social       rejection
so I try too hard
to be
that                                                 "nice"
girl
But,                      is she me?
Actually?
                                Cause,
                                          I do see the good
                                                               in others
                                         And the
                                                       bad
            Letting one out
Keeping the other
In         secure
In
Criticisms layered,                       with little
flowers
       Revealed
                   as soft
and mushy
            No hard edges
    Overly soft,
As if one               were                     protecting                  
                             a child





But,



Is
  It
    Me?

If you start to yell and scream,
Count on me to freeze.
I can't take anger directed at me,
I was born with a disease to please.

Average grades are shameful here.
No more B's and C's.
"Good" is just not good enough
When you have a disease to please.

I know people who pass through life,
Jumping hurdles with ease.
I tell myself "not high enough,"
Thanks to my disease to please.

Emotions take more than fair
In situations like these.
I'm completely drained, robbed, ****** dry
From my disease to please.

All this pressure takes its toll,
Constantly, I feel my heart squeeze.
Breaths are rapid, running short,
And I'm dying from my disease.