The Voice of a Perfectionist

Through all the work I do, through all the time I spend, I am only rewarded with petty numbers that I fret over when they seem to fall. Never a single peace in sight, only the demons harassing me with the inches of work piled on high on my arched back. The back that has slowly left me disfigured in my mind, heart, and body. 

OH! HOW ACCUSTOM I HAVE BECOME TO FITS OF MURDER!

HOW I WANT TO TAKE UP THE KNIFE TO PLUNGE IT INTO THOSE THAT SCORN ME!
HOW I WISH I COULD, HOW I WISH I CAN... to take up the noose around my neck and let go...

But nevertheless, I wait on the good times. Times that I can call my friend. 

How I coaxed myself every night and morning to a better future that I know is nothing, but a cruel dream.

It was work that was handed to me on a silver platter, it was a pen that prostrated itself to my command, but no sweet words were given to me. Looking around me, I've wondered " how nice that these fools can live such carefree lives.... or is it I that am the fool for trying so hard for something as equivalent to an ant beneath my feet". 

I think myself, a rebel.

A rebel at heart.

Within my mind, all the wants I have manifests and with it, I delude myself into believing that is the way with which this world works. 

Pity, pity, pity, how pitiful I am. 

OFF TO WORK!

Each piece I do with such delicate care, each consuming my life. I never stop to dream my future aside from the great American Dream. My heart was empty and my mind was full. 

No matter how hard I try to learn, I'll never have a dream of my own. I am merely a robot in human skin.

I've tasted life and I now want no more.

Work was everything and when my effort was lost, I feel myself die a little. Just a little.

That feeling of lost... I'll never forget.

The countless hours being wisped away like Icarus' bliss. 

Tears? Sadness? I know of not.

For I drown in it every second of my life. Every struggle was futile, every breath was suffocating, every heart beat was mines being set off somewhere far and distant, and every moment tore away at my paper like body.

I WILL NOT BE DENIED WHAT I DESERVE! I WILL NOT STAND BY AND BE SCORN BY UNKNOWN ENTITIES! I WILL HUNT ALL THAT TRAMPLES OVER ME TO THE DEEPEST PITS OF HELL AND TO THE HIGHEST OF HEAVEN! 

Cause I won't let all that I've done go to waste by someone else so pitiful.