Sometimes I feel like a walking calamity.
sort of unfinished-
like a painting missing just that last daub.
Like a sketch instead of a snapshot.
I'm clothes that don't totally fit.
I feel ungrateful- often.
Smarmy and altruistic.
A vain liar.
the princess ideal is not for me
nor is the martyr
but lately I feel I wear both the dress, the cross and the crown.
Invisible stigmatas staining my palms.
Bearing everyone's burdens but my own.
When did I decide that was my job?
Who chose to put me in this role?
If I am in charge of my own destiny, why did I choose such a lousy one?
in the final fight,
I won't walk to the light. I'll brandish my umbrella for the storm cloud.
I've painted on the silver lining for others. They've eaten my words.
But this is something I cannot swallow.
Oh life- you bitter pill.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
Sometimes I feel like a walking calamity.
sort of unfinished-
like a painting missing just that last daub.
Like a sketch instead of a snapshot.
I'm clothes that don't totally fit.
I feel ungrateful- often.
Smarmy and altruistic.
A vain liar.
the princess ideal is not for me
nor is the martyr
but lately I feel I wear both the dress, the cross and the crown.
Invisible stigmatas staining my palms.
Bearing everyone's burdens but my own.
When did I decide that was my job?
Who chose to put me in this role?
If I am in charge of my own destiny, why did I choose such a lousy one?
in the final fight,
I won't walk to the light. I'll brandish my umbrella for the storm cloud.
I've painted on the silver lining for others. They've eaten my words.
But this is something I cannot swallow.
Oh life- you bitter pill.
Copyright fhw, 2014
