REGRET HAS NO PLACE IN MY VOCABULARY

Lost everything I had, so that qualifies me as a loser. Never afraid to say it, it's how life deals with me. Accepted the fact my dreams and aspirations wont come true, wouldn't know how to handle myself if they ever did. Continuous failure is not my detour for surrender, but a comforting feeling that reinforces I am not just breathing I am still alive. Been addicted to many things, just never success. Living sober and hopeful to someday not feel anything again. Experienced the full range of emotions, and spend most of the time with the destructive ones you try to block out everyday. I smash the mold and leave the pieces too small to count. My diversity prohibits any category from owning me. Cannot be identified as average, and will not conform to any ideals rooted in falsehood. Always defending this individuality that has become such an easy target. Put forth so much energy to halt a relentless force that wishes to suffocate my progression. Doing anything "by the book" has never been option. I deviate from the popular path, and walk with no remorse. Lost count of how many times I've been written off by the ones who shall remain nameless.     




Like the abandoned greenhouse on a vacant lot, empty and alone, I stand in defiance of the past and present, and for a single purpose. For a minuscule glimmer of hopes that I will once again be full of life. From useful, important, and inspiring to destructive, insignificant, and monotonous: I have been reduced to this hollow shell awaiting my final decent into the ground. To costly to undergo repairs and return the favor, I have been deemed an eyesore on society. So feel free to inflect as much damage as you possibly can, shatter my dirty windows; rip my doors from the hinges, leave my pillars in piles, and trample the rumble that has been left behind by the last assault promising to collapse me. When you have exhausted all your vicious attempts to bring me down to your level, notice as I smile from ear to ear.  The scars from much worse harm are evidence to both of us, serving as a constant reminder that pain is nothing but temporary. Not by your hands or the hands of anyone else for that matter will ever remove me from my point of view. So go on and leave, return with renewed strength to continue your campaign of devastation. The stinging ache from actions with malicious intent only awakens my courage to persevere through this routine attack. That look of disgust that is written all over your face has become an all too familiar sight. It looks so much better as I stand and watch you retreat just like the rest who have come before you. Impose your ill will, all the original tactics have already been tried, you couldn't possibly injury me in an exciting way. I will stay here taunting you to do your worst, begging for anything unseen; it leaves my appetite unsatisfied. I dare you to test me, and I will guarantee that in the end, you will be the one to fail.