AN: I had to write this for an assignment for school. I'm not at all sure how good it is, but I like the tone. Reviews are particularly welcome here, as I am unsure as to the quality of this story. Thank you.

I fucking hate it when the sun is bright out.

There’s no way to play the victim.

And so I suspect where there is nothing Secret hopes to look pathetic Trying to be scared of something that isn’t there

No one will harm the weak one.

No one will harm the scared one.

The meek shall inherit the earth.

And so I hold up each brightly sunny day Maybe there’s something wrong with it Hoping to find imperfections, anomalies

Holes in the fabric of nature

Holes where I can curl up and rest, at ease,

In perfect misery.

And it grows cold.

And it rains once more.

And I am at peace In My Perfect Hell This hell have I passed Thrown in haste onto another This son have I trapped Pulled by light he goes under

Condemned for a damned eternity of consciousness to be like me.

He has not seen the bright world He has not seen the world’s joy He has grown up trapped down here In My Perfect Hell

He knows of no way to escape this damned place and so accepts it and chooses to know nothing else

But sometimes in the brightness of summer

He can see out of the Darkness of Christ

And it fucking terrifies him.

And sometimes in the happy breezes

He can see out of My Perfect Hell

And he envies all those who walk free of it

And that fucking terrifies him.

He is trapped, as I, in dull brown of autumn

And the chill of winter.

He is also trapped in My Perfect Hell.

But not his.

But not his.

But not his.

This is mine

It belongs only to me

Even though he’s been dragged down

It is still Not His.

It was only meant to be for me

A place for me and me alone

My center of selfishness

My Perfect Hell.