I never asked
for anyone to
bend over
backwards
or make sure
that I was okay.
I never asked
for the creaking
floorboards that
keep me awake
as I toss and turn
at night.
I never
wanted to be
stricken by the
fear that I can
never let go.
But I will.
Because I
never wanted
to hold on
in the first
place
and I never
wanted
a reason to
complain.
I never asked to
be drunk;
I planned
on it.
The moonlight
shining in from
my fourth story
window
is fading
from the rim
of my glass,
so I can't
see what exactly
lies in front of me.
Making my way to
the bed so I can
rest once again
has become more
of a chore than
a peaceful thought.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
I never asked
for anyone to
bend over
backwards
or make sure
that I was okay.
I never asked
for the creaking
floorboards that
keep me awake
as I toss and turn
at night.
I never
wanted to be
stricken by the
fear that I can
never let go.
But I will.
Because I
never wanted
to hold on
in the first
place
and I never
wanted
a reason to
complain.
I never asked to
be drunk;
I planned
on it.
The moonlight
shining in from
my fourth story
window
is fading
from the rim
of my glass,
so I can't
see what exactly
lies in front of me.
Making my way to
the bed so I can
rest once again
has become more
of a chore than
a peaceful thought.
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