A friend came to me,
and showed me some
genuine kindness.
I felt plastic.
My face wasn't right.
My pounds weighed heavily upon
my stone heart.
The alcohol
which brought some lies
in the form of false facade.
burnt away, thought the mask remained
She looked in my eyes
Smiling,
knowing.
I hate the knowing.
Because I know not myself.
And I know all too well.
It is disgusting.
I wanted to tell her everything.
As I bit my tongue
I understand
I interrupted
I'll think about it
I appreciate it.
I listen but don't hear
I can't.
My life story is a burden
I refuse to place on others
This weight I bear.
This depression, always in the back.
She had seen.
Naked. Raw. Open. Exposed. Defeated.
I feel at a loss.
When I know I should have won.
Someone irreplaceable.
Someone I should not love.
But show me that genuine kindness.
Understand. And I am done.
My gift is my curse.
My heart beats for no one.