Betterment of Me

I sit and relax, to figure out the things that I lack, To make myself a better person, but I feel the world is caving in on my shoulders, deflating my confidence, making my being worsen. The Devil is trying so hard to place his name on my heart, but from the start God has been the only name written on my body, His name is written in fine print on my flesh, I'm a work of his art, so no one can stop me from being me, but him. Enemies can bond with you more than your friends do; it's even foolish to have friends these days. They can be the reason for your suicide, but claim their actions as innocent, that they weren't involved in that homicide. Crazy how it would be safer to walk the streets yourself, because nobody got you, like you got you. They say being selfish is the wrong thing to do, but I rather be selfish and treat myself than to waste my time on friends I only see every once and a blue moon. This world is foolish, and I refused to be marked as clueless because I haven't bettered myself. I'll pretend that friends are bad for my health, like poison, but watch them call me fake, and talk behind my back saying that I'm annoying. I just play them how they play me, I'm only playing my cards right, and they're mad because I'm winning. So it's pretty clear that I'm bettering myself, because they only get mad when they see you doing better than themselves. These silly games are pointless, and we're only getting older, so I have no choice but to get my shit together. And in the process, I'll better myself, with or without friends, because there is no 'we' in success. So I sit and relax, Because only I will regret not correcting my story of errors from the being that I want to be that I have lacked.