What I carry is insignificant,
What it means to you doesn’t matter.
Why it falls and on this wall makes a splatter?
This is my burden to carry,
I am the one who swallows this bullet, not you.
I am my own ego-death and then I’m not.
Yes I realize
______________I am not among the few.
I am my own and alone.
I am half of a whole and never lonely.
I didn’t ask for your help.
_____________(I don’t need fixing)
Just love me.
_____________Because I love you.
Posted in Personal
Tagged alone, bullet, burden, carry, half, help, individual, lonely, love, poem, poetry, swallow, whole
It’s getting harder to leave behind
Everything that’s brought to mind.
She tries to leave this with her fears;
Has she lost them, her best years?
What is left? What now remains?
What she has, what torments to blame?
Lying down and giving up,
She can’t drink from that cup.
With very few to help her carry on,
She strives for that place she’s always belonged.