3. the climb

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i climb my way up
to the peak of happy.
but you tell me i'm only dreaming
because little girls can't stand-up
on their own.
you push me down
with a face full of dissatisfaction.
as if my need to be happy
is selfish
or evil.

on the days that i can't get out of bed
you're disappointed.
you tell me to be happy
but that's not really what you want.
you want me to shred off everything;
until i service your mood.

so as i climb the mountain,
blood draining from my hands and feet.
i realize that on my climb
i can't make you happy too.
because you throw axes
on the ropes that hold up my life
and i continue to fall down.
i have to send you home
so that i can climb up the mountain
and find the purest treasure of all,
happiness.

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