Tell Me

This kind of deep-seated exhaustion

can't even be found in the movies.

Authors cannot write it sufficiently,

musicians can't sing it soft enough. 

Tell me to keep fighting.

Someday, I hope to return the favor.

Tell me to see the light,

somewhere down beyond.

Watch it morph into various shapes,

until it turns into a beast.

I want something to fight for.

I don't seem to be good enough. 

Fix Me

I carry many burdens in this world
yours, yours, yours...yours.
So many I shove my own deep below,
like an Ostrich in the sand.
Buried so deep I almost forget
they still exist.

Everyone has a trigger for their issues,
whatever they may be.
Call a previous anorexic fat,
and the downward spiral begins anew.
I'm not even sure what mine are anymore,
but something has triggered.
I feel like a small child,
huddling in the corner with my blankie,
wide eyes to stop the tears.

I don't know how to fix this.
I can't fix this.

Fractured

I've passed the point of no return.

You've gotten under my skin,

and now it's begun. 

Hairline fractures erupt

across the finely constructed shell

I've woven for so many years.

I'm not ready.

I think I'm not ready.

Will I ever be?

I only know this life.

Only know the world through these eyes.

But you've given me new ones with which to see,

I don't know if I should thank you

or slap you.

Ah, but the love I have for you

encapsulates all fury

and turns it into new construction.

So, from this fractured shell...

Thank you.