Status of a loser

Dreamt the day, no longer crippled by anxiety and self loathing. My body healed and fixed, refashioned into armor used to protect, external loathing. No longer a threat. Negativity bounces off never to leave a scratch. The last thing to worry about is, my skin with a random cut. I remember nights sleeping, jumping awake whenever I felt something on my leg creeping. Easily bruised, not enough challenges over-came, to mold the man, I inspire to become.

With each mistake I folded, anxiety took the chance, never to let it slip. Self loathing, the acceleration that brought me down. Most people don’t willingly, randomly walk on nails. When faced with the opportunity, there isn’t usually a gun to our backs. Threatening to paralyze, our last thought in time. Only promise of tomorrow, is on the other side of that spike bed, if we are lucky. At maximum ten bloody toes. Sadly whenever, I get to thinking about how much my toes hurt, naturally shift weight onto my heels. Nails stuck a little deeper than necessary, couldn’t relax and take my time.

Much pressure to hurry, in due time. Took too long to cross. Hollow bullet in my spine. Least if I, just make it to the end and fall, it won’t be on the spikes. Halfway through without a clue. How many centimeters, off my foot, left behind. Hate that I technically put myself through this, simply to survive. Best option for some, not really equipped enough to fight.

Yet still I choose not to fight anyone but myself. There is no gun. Really I do this for fun. If a push is all it takes, let me be the one to push myself to the next step. Put yourself through just to say you can do it. Eventually the day will be won.

What’s At Fault

Stand still if you’re reluctant to feel. Sit down, if the last thing you’ll do is be discovered, while you frown. My will power is stronger than most.

A silent, lonely toast. Raise your hand, if you can’t stand the cards you’ve been given. For they don’t match the game the world is playing. I worked hard to succeed, only for the definition of success to change with the breeze.

Bow your head, if you aim to have everything, you’ve ever wanted within grasp. Before you are dead. Time limits work best, when you know how much time you got left. Move forward, if you want to take two steps back.

Never satisfied for too long, constantly finishing right where I started. Shifting from on emotion to the next. No Rhyme. No Reason. To do otherwise is treason to the one, I’ve known all my life.  A heart deserves to feels.

Myself packaged and forced onto the shelf. Collecting dust. Finally I’m safe. Psychologically trapped better known as a decisive commitment to stay consistent.

Once you experience change, it is to blame. So I never move.
Such is a shame.