I love you.

For only the second time, ever
have I confessed this
conundrum,
and yet.

I genuinely meant it.

I dare not look up for fear of the brilliance of the sun,
yet I will never look down either
for I hide from the darkness of the smoky fabric
of my soul.
I do not look forward because I am afraid
that the strings which connect me to what is dear
will break and leave me reeling backwards
like a fish out of water.
I cannot look behind lest I be reminded
of all the mistakes I wish I could take back.
I will not look here or there or at
this or that because I believe I am weak
and lacking in so many things.
But in truth, I am just waiting for
someone to tell me that I am strong
and that I will make it, and that the only place
I need to look is
inside
of myself.

It's easier to wallow
with no additional weight

It's easier to swallow
tiny morsels stripped off the bone

It's easier to swallow
when you submit to fate

It's easier to wallow
when you decide to walk alone