My judgement clouded by undeserved happiness
Slavery's my choice, it's my fault
Isn't it always?

I can't remember anymore,
Can't afford to pay attention
Why were you even born?

A slave's only purpose is to please
When will I ever learn?
I'm so happy right now

Just make it stop
Just make me stop
My heart, still ever beating

The skin I'm in
Emotional numbness, stoic?
My heart is bleeding

They claim to care
They claim to love
They claim to do better

Alone I waste away
New year, new day
Same them, same old problems

I've read between the lines
I'm not a part of the bigger pictures
I paint them a personality of perfection, because I never mattered

Their words and actions
Contrary, opposed within the same person
I'm about to fall apart again

What must I be
A slave, a friend
A daughter, I see no difference

I feel the hurts
It all gets worse
No wonder I'm so worthless

Priority
Certainly not me
It's my fault, I'm to blame

Why were you ever born?
I'm torn
Between letting you live to hurt or die to burn

So many ways to rid the world of you
A lifelong inconvenience
For some reason everyone's shattered?

Regrets and tears
They grieve, they cheer
But why? I never mattered

Elements of choice
These things that shine
Blind head thoughts
and your energy source
to think a little deeper

Short term goals of golden fold
What motivates men more
than illusions of grandeur
The rock still gleams bright

Pave a path of purpose
Priorities stand still with remorse
Yet we lay in line

Wake up fresh - start new today
Each morning a new beginning
I push aside my past mistakes
For this day I choose winning

Disregard my faulty thoughts
Today I think the higher way
I see my clear priorities
And act on them without delay

New beginnings give to me
Vitality and strength of mind
And with my fresh start every day
I live my life from my design

The boy raced out to recess excited to hunt for bugs.
As he was looking on the playground, he spotted something strange.
A tired, overworked mad with lots of money and no love.
He looked closer so he could discover how to avoid becoming the very thing he found.

Logical doesn’t have taste. It has circumstance. Only to be tasteful, is to be surrounded by a taste of what gradually makes a self importance greater to yourself. Proudly underestimating yourself at first. Giving closure to the surrounding areas. Taste has no boundaries here. A made-up friction. A made-up functionality. A dripping faucet without clarity. Dripping one social taste at any given time. Clarity giving rise to the surrounding areas with logical ingredients. Logical ingredients slapping taste buds without concern for logical praise. Logical praise that doubts it’s understanding of taste buds giving praise to ingredients without concern for how praise will affect it’s priorities. Priorities finishing the diversity of something logical with a taste. The taste buds feeling the diversities finalizing ingredients in their rightful places. Like shiny white plates on display for the crowd of praises effecting one’s own priorities. Teeth whitening the taste buds for greater effect. Praises finally giving the logical praise the taste it deserves. More surrounding areas include a broader crowd. A newer logical taste starts to emerge in the practice of ingredients giving logical praise to the logical priorities that govern it so. Praise from newer surroundings influencing more ingredients in the form of logical taste. More taste buds start feeling the diversities in the praise which salivates the practice of logical assessments. A reverse act giving rise to a simplified logical taste without boundaries.

When I'm on my phone,
I'd stop what I'm doing
Just to reply to your messages first
And if I'm away,
Your text messages are the first that I'd reply to
But sadly
That's not the case when it comes to you
Since i know you're always on your phone
But I'm the last person you'd reply to
And I'd have to wait til the next time you look at it again in order to get a reply
See that's the difference
You're my first priority
But I'm not even a priority to you