As far back as I can see
I've always had a question,
"Whats wrong with me?"

I can't connect with my sisters,
or with my mom or dad,
My face, to them, only ever looks sad.

I want to say maybe this wasn't always the case,
Maybe before I can remember,
There was something that changed?

I don't know what shifted,
What made me so different
I just know I felt unwanted often.

I feel like a half moon in a full blue sky, Weaving neap tides, a subtle lullaby. I drift in circles, revisiting places, Wishing the wind could carry me through spaces.

Caught in a cycle, I must confess, Some days I feel whole, moments of success. Everything's beautiful when I’m truly living, Yet I always find myself back at the beginning.

Like the moon, I have my phases, A relentless return to familiar places. In an unbroken cycle, a path well-tread, Like the moon, my heart waxes and wanes instead.

I'm a half moon in a full blue sky, Weaving neap tides, singing a lullaby. Drifting in circles, retracing my steps, Wishing the wind could carry me, I confess.

In this cycle, I find my truth, Days of fullness, moments of youth. When I'm present, life is a vivid scene, Yet I always return to where I’ve been.

Like the moon, my phases are clear, Always returning, year after year. In this unbroken cycle, my heart finds its way, Waxing and waning, night turns into day

I let fear fog up my mind
My thoughts yell at me "I'm trying!"
While my actions show me
I want to let the light in

but I fall into darkness
all too often I hide away
and avoid the open blue sky
because the rainclouds distract my mind

the sky-blue sheet above me
only inspires every thought
I try to avoid to blow through
and bring rain from within

An apology isn't an explanation
It took me until now to get it.
It's upsetting how blind I am
to my own hypocrisy.

I've always wanted acceptance
and felt it was an essential need,
I'd break down each time
My parents couldn't apologize

They'd bring up excuse after excuse,
"It's my belief," "I'm not wrong," "this is my side..."
I hated them for this
But had my own way of doing the same thing.

Does this mean I'm the narcissist?
I'm the selfish, arrogant. awful person
I saw reflecting back at me
Through my family?

These thoughts creep up on me again and again,
They make me want to crawl under a rock,
Become dust and eventually drift away
at least in the wind I could change.

As we wait beneath the mountains
For the passes to clear.

The river fills in torrents
As the horses and the men grow thin.

Feats of winter thriving
Fade in the springtime starving.

Birds fly high above,
Finding open water beyond us.

We wait in wonderment.
The dogs sense danger as we eye them.