crushed
by the immense weight of
expectation; I’ve come too far
to turn back now.
or to stay stagnated, where I am.
this halfway house of
purgatory, grasping at mere
fibres of the future I so very wish to weave,
but my attempts are futile
I am unable to get a grip.
rope burn bites at my hands,
slip, bleed, slip.
The options are so endless,
yet so limited by none other
than myself.
I preach,
believe in yourself. love yourself.
go for your dreams and don’t let them slip away.
but these are simply words I say.
I preach one thing and
I practise another.
hypocrisy, doubt’s dutiful brother
fan others flames yet ignore mine being smothered.
by my own hands, none other.
at least I have you,
the single being on this earth
that believes in me.
I don’t know why
I don’t know how it came to be.
that you are the one soul that truly pushes me towards my dreams.
you don’t let me give up
you don’t allow me to claim victim, be smothered by this monster surrounding me,
not mother or father
but me, it’s me.
the monster is me
don’t you see?
I’m the one who doesn’t believe.
I’m the one whose stopping me
I’m the one whose keeping me down and doubting myself and writing myself off before I even put pen to paper and make myself worse off.
You are like
a fallen angel
lifting me on
your broken wings
not to save me,
but to let me go
and catch me again
like a bird
teaching her
baby to fly.
you,
are trying to help me realize
that I have wings too,
if I’d just open my eyes.
that you can still fly
and be scared of heights.
3 am passes
another day approaches
pointless moments surrounded by
expressionless
wilting roses.
I’ll fight the urge to
give up, even if it feels like
I’m not winning
because
the clock will pass 4 am
and the world will keep spinning
