The Tick Tock Of The Clock Is Painful, All Sane And Logical, I Want To Tear It Off The Wall
The sunset turns her hair into a halo.
Strands glowing softly against the back drop of the slowly darkening sky.
Deep in thought, she doesn't even realize she's being watched.
Even if she noticed she wouldn't care.
Lost in her own world, living in her own mind.
Never as close to perfect as she seems in the fading light.
Striving for perfection, failing miserably.
Watching those around her blossom, bloom and grow into themselves.
Incapable of stretching her wings, unable to take flight.
Hating herself for every jealous thought she has.
Turning her hateful thoughts onto her own imperfect self.
They shake their heads, unsure of why she would do such things.
I understand.
She hurts herself so as not to hurt those around her.
As jealous as she is of their happiness, she loves them dearly.
Her jealousy is mixed; admiration and hope; hatred and guilt.
She wants them to be happy, she needs them to be happy.
It's only when the sun is setting that she allows those thoughts to fully form.
In the short time between afternoon and twilight, when the world seems surreal;
She allows herself to imagine being happy instead of them;
Knowing that later she will punish herself for such thoughts.
It may seem self-sacrificing, but really it is the epitome of selfishness.
No one being should live only for the happiness of others.
Its a rather Omnipotent idea, offending to the senses.
I'm rather tired of only being me from dusk to twilight;
I'm sick of only the stars knowing my true thoughts;
I'm disgusted with myself, and yet completely enamored with my self-hatred.
I'm unwilling to change, yet aware that I can not remain the same.
Strands glowing softly against the back drop of the slowly darkening sky.
Deep in thought, she doesn't even realize she's being watched.
Even if she noticed she wouldn't care.
Lost in her own world, living in her own mind.
Never as close to perfect as she seems in the fading light.
Striving for perfection, failing miserably.
Watching those around her blossom, bloom and grow into themselves.
Incapable of stretching her wings, unable to take flight.
Hating herself for every jealous thought she has.
Turning her hateful thoughts onto her own imperfect self.
They shake their heads, unsure of why she would do such things.
I understand.
She hurts herself so as not to hurt those around her.
As jealous as she is of their happiness, she loves them dearly.
Her jealousy is mixed; admiration and hope; hatred and guilt.
She wants them to be happy, she needs them to be happy.
It's only when the sun is setting that she allows those thoughts to fully form.
In the short time between afternoon and twilight, when the world seems surreal;
She allows herself to imagine being happy instead of them;
Knowing that later she will punish herself for such thoughts.
It may seem self-sacrificing, but really it is the epitome of selfishness.
No one being should live only for the happiness of others.
Its a rather Omnipotent idea, offending to the senses.
I'm rather tired of only being me from dusk to twilight;
I'm sick of only the stars knowing my true thoughts;
I'm disgusted with myself, and yet completely enamored with my self-hatred.
I'm unwilling to change, yet aware that I can not remain the same.