What do you want from me?
Nothing satisfies you
You're always pushy
I can't stand you anymore.

We used to be friends
You then got upset
When I didn't give you
What you wanted from me.

Twice that happened
And too many times.
You ignore me now
I can't get you to talk.

You're changing quick
Losing friends fast
You're different for the worse
I don't like what you've become.

You put makeup on
Masking your face
To be unique
To be yourself.

But is this you?
Is this the person
I used to know?
Or is he long gone?

How do I get him
Back to his place
By my side.
Home again.

Begone with this ****,
I want nothing to do with.
All he's caused, is trouble and stress.
All he's done, is unimpress.

i cannot help but be jealous of those who are my age and doing great things; it has gotten so bad that i begin to dislike these people, though they have done nothing wrong to me or anyone else.

on another note, i am constantly getting the feeling that i am wasting my life. is this normal? no matter what i do, whether i complete meaningless tasks or important ones, when i spend hours watching a tv show or hours practicing a sport i’ll never be great at, i am hindered by the thought that i could be doing something better with myself.

i think i am feeling worse than usual. life has been a daze recently, and only now is it catching up to me. what will i do? sit back, relax, and watch the world crumble? or should i take the horse by the reigns and fight back against everything i’ve been taught?

either one i choose will be regretted in later life. so i suppose i should pick the one that i’ll regret less, though i wonder if i will live long enough to see the day where i am able to finally decide.

Bitterness hugs my heart,
jealousy tugs at me,
constantly working hard but no big breaks for me.
Giving it my all to no avail, how come?
How do bad girls with good hair surpass me when all I'm doing is what's right?
I'm trying so hard to break free but despair keeps welling up inside me, giving up would be so easy but even that is not an option for me.
Why do others get dealt the winning hand from birth?
Is struggle suppose to be synonymous to me?
Hard work is not all its cracked out to be,
unfortunately that's my reality.

Scrutinizing eyes
All staring at her
They call her a ****
Because she smells
of cigarette and lust
**** society
A smell doesn't tell
The whole story