When Everything is Too Far Away
I'm laying here tonight, thinking.
About society and how I just fucking want...everything.
I want to be hot,
I want to be smart,
I want to be witty,
I want to be charismatic,
I want to be important,
I want to be respected,
I want to be wild,
You can see that I want to be everything.
Everything that's perceived as success.
I want it all.
How cliché, right?
But I remember something, lying here alone, poor, and next to none of all of those things listed above.
I count the ones I have.
My family, they love me,
My friends, as few as they are, think I'm fun,
My teachers, they know me as smart,
Though not carefree.
I have some things.
And it's okay, I think, to not have it all.
I'm not sexy, or beautiful, by the standard of all,
But I'm trying,
To be better in that way as well.
On a lot of things.
To be independent, for one,
To reach that point where stress doesn't control me,
To be rich,
Once I get that job that lights my soul on fire,
Or do something else that does the same.
My passion is there some days,
Others it's harder to find,
But I am comforted in the knowledge that I have made a small difference in my life,
And that makes me happy,
Even if it won't necessarily be remembered for long.
When your everything is too far away,
Look closely for the some things you have.
They will be enough,
Who was I, but God's first to make.
Who was I, but the first one to break.
I hear his voice sometimes, here in Hell.
Let me tell you the story, of the night I Fell.
I was everything.
I was perfect.
When He brought me into being, I knew I shined, pure in His creative hand.
Yet, He did not want me as I grew to know this.
His voice made me shudder.
I knew my time was running out.
I saw him, and He would not look at me.
"God, what is so wrong with me that you will not take me as your Goddess?"
His form remained silent.
And I screamed, "I am perfectly made! Will you not take me on high as you are? Will you continue to let those...those plebeians below me take precedence for ever and ever?"
My vocals strained as tears fell, "You cannot call me Lucy! If that mistress was what you wished I will no longer be called that. Now, I tell you I am not she, I am Satan, and Lord you will know me forever by that name or you will rue -"
His Hand struck me across my face,
And I Fell.
As the glory of heaven was stripped from my form,
I heard Him speak.
"How you have fallen from heaven, morning star."
And my heart knew hate,
So I broke my voice with the words He would feel,
He who could think me broken from His disdain!
“Lord, I will ascend to the heavens and I will raise my throne above Yours; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly! I will ascend above the tops of the clouds - I WILL make myself like the Most High!"
He laughed, and my spite grew immeasurably more as He said,
"But you, Lucy, are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit. Behold, those who see you stare at you, as they ponder your fate."
Then, His presence left me and I was cold.
I shuddered on the ground.
I am everything.
Who am I, but a woman scorned.
Who am I, but vengeance born.
I rule down low, eyes turned on high.
Evil waiting, for its time to be nigh.
Note: I did use quotations from the Bible in this piece. That would be some of the dialogue between God and Lucy. Also, I'm not sure why the formatting with italics and bold is off, but I hope you guys enjoy it despite that! Thank you for reading, if you made it this far :)
Just Keep Going
When your heart
Is ready to burst
And the world
Is giving you its worst
Just keep going...
For you, I'm on my way
When your pain
Never knew any bounds
And your words
Seem to make no sound
Just keep going...
For you, there's no better way
When all your worries
Never let you go
Know I love you
For your beautiful soul
And just keep going...
For you, I'm here to stay
She Was Better
For as long as she could remember, she always wanted to be better.
And, sitting at a lone table in the cafeteria like she always did, she thought about what it meant to be good enough.
How she never was.
Pressure assaulted, stress crushed, and tension snapped her day after day.
But she was better than them, the kids who always had fun.
How hard she tried never seemed to matter.
She wanted to be like them, but they rejected her like they knew what she was.
Memories flooded her mind in a wash of red embarrassment and rage, and she remembered.
When her parents didn't want her and abandoned her to the system when she was born, and given to foster parents who demanded perfection.
And how she was better, and gave it to them.
When she didn't make honor roll in elementary, they called her stupid.
And how she was better, and made it every year after that.
When she was thirteen and the first boy she wrote a note to threw it away, she asked him why and he told her she was fat.
And how she was better, and stopped eating every day.
When kids went to parties, she never got an invitation and found out it was because she wasn't cool.
And how she was better, and made money so they'd like her.
When she was seventeen and raped after given drugs put in her drink on her first date, she found out that she'd been used.
And how she was better, and realized that she would never be accepted the way she wanted.
Her rejection never changed.
No matter how much she did.
So she stood up, sighted, and showed everyone just how much better she was.