Punk Pøetry

the pecking ørder

Here I stand, beneath the spøtlight, nøt even truly prepared tø speak

But I will set these wørds free

And all recørds straight

Yøu and me bøth, we wish things were nøt høw they are

But alløw me tø express the feeling that surrøunds me

Følløw my wørds accørdingly, as they paint this picture

My lips are nøw the paint brush that is respønsible før all markings øn a ønce empty canvas

Sø then, are yøu ready tø understand?

Øk.

Sø I ønce said sømething wise, in which it was applied tø someøne, whø knøws someøne I met thrøugh yøu, thøugh I said it directly tø that mutual friend øf øurs

I said "we are all emøtiønally afraid øf heights"

This statement implies that thøse øf us whø seem sø negative, we are simply afraid øf high høpes

The higher øur heads are raised, the møre it will hurt when we fall frøm such heights

Sø, we stay at røck bøttøm

Nøw, by restating this analøgy, I'm nøt implying that I, myself cømpletely identify with it.

My particular situatiøn is a bit different

But just keep listening

See, there was a pøint in time where I was løw and brøken

Øn the grøund, yøu føund me pleading før help

And sø, yøu did cømply

Yøu were my platførm

And yøu raised me higher than heaven

My fear øf heights began tø burn bright

And sø yøu reassured me that yøu wøuld never let me fall

As time passed, I felt the platførm beneath me start tø shøw signs øf instability

Sø, startled as I was, I called my wørry tø yøur attentiøn

Yøu denied there were ever any issues

But the platførm that carried me, the platførm that was yøu, I felt it shake and rattle as if it were øn the brink øf disassembly

My fears grew greater

This pattern persisted før a while until sømeday....

Øne day, that platførm disappeared, suddenly

And I fell

I. Fell. Far.

The amøunt øf damage døne will never truly be understøød by yøu

That is fair and that is fine

But why have I decided tø bring this tøpic intø the light, this day?

Well...it is because there is sømething abøut my fear that needs tø be addressed

Tøday I asked abøut yøu, that is in return tø vice versa

And yøur respønse.... suggested that yøu aren't particularly happy

Knøwing this caused me great pain and nausea

Because før every time I see that yøu are gøing thrøugh unhappy times, I flashback tø the days where I gave everything I had just tø try and help yøu

But due tø yøur stubbørnness, my efførts led tø nø avail

And as I am trapped between the truth øf the past and the inevitability øf the present...I quite literally feel like a fucking failure

Because I knøw that every time yøu are in a less than perfect cønditiøn, yøu are nøt gøing tø trust me ør cønfide in me tø assist yøu thrøugh yøur trøubles

It fucking hurts like knife wøunds, tø knøw høw yøu'll never trust me

Am I weak?

Tø yøu, I feel I am

And I feel that even if yøu ever did alløw me tø help, my "knøwledge" wøuld never be strøng enøugh tø ever impress yøu

And øverall, I felt that if I ever did try tø help yøu, then yøu wøuld ønly treat me just as she døes

She whø has døne similar damage

And she has never seen me as anyøne før everything I tried tø be

Sø with yøu, I fear the same judgement

And før that, I can hønestly say these wørds

"I fear you"