No room for closed minds
in a sea of writhing bodies
Plenty for the lonely
as I sit surrounded by noise
Empty but for the heaviness
inside every part of me.

Be good, be gracious, be willing
don't ruin this for them
Be happy, be into it, be excited
don't let your selfishness override.

Bending and bending
over and out of shape
Twisting this way and that
to ensure your happiness
That you get your fill
of small, beautiful, better.

But now as I shatter
all I feel is guilty
Questions dizzying
and stomach turns.

Why am I not enough?

sick of stumbling on words that don't fit
trying to sound pretty but just tasting ash on my tongue
the dirt is just dirt, not a bed for sprouting new leaves
no cultivation will help me blossom
the meagre harvest of years gone by is as good as it gets
perhaps it's time to hang up the emotional shears
it's too painful to keep trying and not make it
let me fall asleep on the moss and become part of the scenery

desperate to be seen, read, heard

validation is cloyingly sweet and unbearable on the soul when withheld

but on and on I’ll bellow in the spotlight

desperation pouring from every pore

sweat breaking on my brow from the forced performance

dance monkey dance

and at least if they laugh i’ll know that they noticed

what a pitiful thing to find in the pit of your soul

that need

to be seen