Only when you are no longer preoccupied with living
can you begin to comprehend life

I'm okay,
But I'm not okay with this.

I'm not okay with
the burden of having
a string constantly tied to my mind.

A string twisting and tugging,
showing and comparing,
validating and devaluing.

I'm not okay with
being concerned with the opinions of everyone -
how anyone can decide my worth
with the press of a tiny red heart.

I'm not okay with
playing the game,
being played by the game,
and inevitably losing the game.

I'm not okay with
being a slave -
happily forgoing my wages
for a selfish,
deeply greedy,
abusive,
master.

How do I make you see me?  

How do I step out
From behind the one-way mirror?
You hear me,
But you talk only to yourself through me.

How do I make you see me -
Not my clothes, or hair, or *******.
Not my body, sitting across from you,
Empty.

Drained by the endless hours of offering my elixir,
Hoping that when it is my turn to drink,
You will see my thirst...

Only you don’t.

You can’t.

Because no matter how much
You gulp down -
You are never satiated.

Your vessel is riddled with holes,
Leaking -
With each slurp you take from me.

How do I make you see me...
Crawling after you,
Gasping -
Yearning for us both to bathe in the elixir -
To soak it in,
Together.

Loving you
Is as much an imprisonment
As it is a freedom.

Imprisoned by the thread of deep knowing
And shared experience...

Held captive by a longing heart -
Stuck in the memories of yesterday.

The ache of love is heavy in my chest,
Squeezing at my ribcage
Like a straitjacket.

The more i struggle for freedom,
The further entangled
I become...

For loving you
Is my life sentence.

It is the cage in which i now willingly sit,
Accepting my fate.
As the monk who sits in his cave -
I have made peace with my decree...

To be held,
In this love...

Forever.

I’m broken

The heaviness of expectation,
The overwhelming weight of it,
Has broken me.

The tension,
Pulling me in too many directions -
Tight and unrelenting -
Has broken me.

The rupture is silent,
Like watching a vase fall,
Colliding with a tiled floor -
Shattering -
While you stand outside,
Watching through a window.

Debris flying,
Chaos ensuring,
Yet serene silence.

The type of rupture
You always keep inside.

Because if it is allowed out...

Who will care
For everyone else
Who is broken?

Who will clean up the debris?
Who will pick up the pieces,
And reassemble?

So for now,

The vase remains in pieces,
Placed together -
But not mended.

There is no time.

Except...

A broken vase,
Simply placed back together,
Cannot hold water.

It cannot fulfil
Its purpose.

Eventually,

The pieces will collapse...
The room will flood,
And everyone will drown.

I must mend.
I must repair.
I must become...
Whole,

Again.