I want to cry.
I don’t know why.
It makes me feel so childish.
I’m weak like this,
I try to squeeze,
My fists and force it down.
I want to cry.
I don’t know why.
It makes me feel so childish.
I’m weak like this,
I try to squeeze,
My fists and force it down.
Opening my eyes again,
Looking at the world,
Trying hard to make sense of it,
Hanging by a thread.
Why do I struggle to breathe, when breath comes easy?
Why do I struggle to see, when my sight is complete?
Why do I struggle to think, when my mind is intact?
Why do I fight to live, when life is still extant?
I stepped to the bar, and he looked at me,
A rag in hand, a smile for free,
I asked if he knew how to make any drink in the world,
He nodded, and said he’d give anything a whirl.
Death is in my makeup,
Poison in my veins.
Failure lurks with every touch,
And pain beneath my wings.
I look into your eyes
What do I see?
Acceptance, of who I am,
Knowing what I am,
Yet giving, accepting.
Loving.
What is change?
Change is difference, movement, a shift.
Painful, fearsome, a monster in the closet.
Change draws out, draws away, draws fear.