Dec 3
the hands i hold collapse, i'm left tilted, obstructed,
a building built by careless hands
who know not the sturdiness it takes to keep the structure standing.
all i am is something worth tearing down,
demolishing to make way for bigger cities and richer people and taller things
and
empty promises of salvation.
the hands i hold are tired from a cruel days work,
they cannot make room for my vacant premises.
every world has no reason to keep me standing,
arms to my sides,
steel tiles tumbling to the ground slowly.
the hands i hold collapse, i'm left tilted, obstructed.
a building built by careless hands
who know not the sturdiness it takes to keep the structure standing.
all i am is something worth tearing down,
demolishing to make way for bigger cities and richer people and taller things
and
empty promises of salvation.
the hands i hold are tired from a cruel days work,
they cannot make room for my vacant premises.
every world has no reason to keep me standing,
arms to my sides,
steel tiles tumbling to the ground slowly.
the hands i hold collapse, i'm left tilted, obstructed.
i feel so alone and sick and stupid and like a waste of space and dumb and too nice and something to avoid. there is a deep sadness embedded in me. i wish to eliminate it, but all it does is grow in size and i am not strong anymore. how could i be?
12/3/24
12/3/24
