in myself i find
the desire to exist in such a manner
that requires nothing of me
other than softness
and kindness
and yet in myself i find
only a bitterness and sourness
and that boring, bland
sadness that had never really left
and was only just hiding
because it was afraid of the light
and i had been fighting my way
to the sun for so long
but it’s so bright
and i’m so tired
and the darkness from before
sounds like such a comfortable home
to return to

i’m sorry i’m not who i think i am.
was i ever?