I am clawing at happiness, Hoping that it finds me a suitable vessel. Because, these days are blurring together and I am seeing endings where there should be ******. I am filled with leaving And too scared to scream to the peopleΒ Β I love, that staying frightens me... I am finding nothing here And I am neither good at sitting or good with standing, And I no longer know in what direction to move one step forward... I am living in scarcity of myself, Putting together the scraps of myself that I no longer want, But it is all I have. And my God am I trying to hold on. I am trying to see the sun without wishing for the moon. Wishing for the moon and waiting for morning. There is no ground I want to stand on... There's no hands that leads to arms for me. You are not here And you are not willing to lend your heart while mine is out seeking restoration. I've always been the woman saving herself But, how many times do I have to break in order to be filled?