Life is too much right now; it’s just too much.
“Stand still.” Just stand utterly still. Let all the blood just wash over you, it will pass my dear.
There is no voice I want to hear and no hand I want to touch. Every hug is so cold, when there’s nothing left in me.
I cut all the strings around me; no family; no friends; no person that is not me.
In hopes I will experience myself; as everything that I mean to be.
If I mean to be nice, I am just nice. No ulterior motives.
If I give, I am just giving, not for things in return.
If I love, I truly am just loving, I am not trying to burn anyone alive.
If I miss, I am just missing, I am not crazy.
If I am trusting, I am just brave. Not a fool in binds.
If I am forgiving, I have a big heart, not a small brain.
If I am trying to heal, I am just helping, not hurting.
If I am just trying to be a good person who wants to be loved back, then that’s all I am. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.
So tired of being a cursed trophy, burning anything that dares to look at me up close, I repel all the things that I love, and to be loved, I have to sit alone on a shelf in a glass box.
I really just meant to love. That is all.
What incredible place I must be headed, that everyone I love cannot go with me. How amazing of a place it must be, for only me to be equipped to be there. Maybe it is a place outside of Earth, where there is no oxygen for them to breathe. Perhaps it’s in the deepest of oceans, where your body lies at the bottom of the Earth. It could be the coldest of winters, where only cold things live. Or the hottest that they will burn.
Wherever it is, it probably is only a place for me. No matter how much space and protection I provide, not a single loved one can come. Like stars in the sky that only appear at night, that no one can touch but everyone remembers to admire every once in awhile.
Maybe that’s a place for me. How tiring of a journey it must be.