I talk of running. Of getting far, far, away. I talk of change, and leaving my life I know behind. I talk of fear and problems, leaving them here... and being haunted by them as I run alone. I talk of brighter days. Running to hopes and dreams that don't really exist. I talk of getting into my car and meeting the horizon for the first time. I talk about freedom. I talk about out, away, not here.
I think of what I still need to do. I think of sour relationships. Of being replaced, not being missed. I think of my unused potential. I think of my fleeting purpose. I think of sadness and crying. So many bad feelings. I think of regret and blame. I think of harsh words and disappointed faces. I think of not being enough for anyone, let alone those I care about, let alone me. I think of never being happy, not being happy here.
I hear others whisper. I hear my name said as a joke, as nothing. I hear people crying, over the phone, in the distance, in my arms. I hear deep sighs and yawns. Not good enough, not entertaining. I hear the wind through my hair and the call from the distance. I hear my phone ding, ring, die. I hear hateful words, a pained tone. I hear struggle in my own voice. I hear conversations. And I hear the silence.
I touch my bed, empty and cold. I touch the Kleenex, fight the tears. I touch the dishes, one more thing to do. I touch my hair, the color is fading. I touch the steering wheel, the gas peddle. I touch my key ring, my freedom. I touch the rushing water, a shower never makes me clean. I touch the keyboard, the letters, the words. I touch my face, my lips, under my eyes... so tired.
I see the pain, the fear, the hurt. I see failing dreams and lost loves. I see the past leaving and the present sinking. I see uncertainty. I see so much change and fight. I see broken homes, broken bones, broken hearts. I see darkness swallowing the light. I see fake smiles, fake laughter, fake happy. I see people trying so hard and not gaining. I see struggle. I see so much.
I am frightened. I am worried. I am uneasy and nervous. I am faking it. I am barely making it. I am in pain and screaming inside. I am stubborn, I am greedy, I am a user, abuser. I am full of doubt, full of crazy, full of myself. I am cautiously walking on egg shells. I am a coward, a fluke, a child. I am weak and needy. I am broken. I am who I am.
Categories:
Poetry