where does this loneliness
come from?
how does something
swallow me up inside
if i don’t even know
where it is
coming from?
i can’t even begin to wrap my head
around why i feel
lonely when
all i do is choose to be
alone-
i am my worst
destruction.
i lose excitement
daily, and
i lose my purpose
daily, and
i question my place
in this wild world i
was born into
daily-
WHERE DO I BELONG?
i have tried to build
a place for me-
tried to build a castle
out of rotting wood and
splintered glass
it isn’t working.
i didn’t belong before, and
i don’t belong now, and
i am starting to think that
i don’t belong
any / where
-but i can’t let them know
i can’t let
anyone
know.
there are so many things that i hide
that i’m not sure
what parts of me
are left
uncloaked-
i am a mystery.
/ do i want to be? /
no,
but i have
become one.
i float aimlessly-
a geographically challenged butterfly,
wings ripped and
so far from home that
she drags the chrysalis of
who she once was along
beside her.
when is my
metamorphosis?
everyone keeps talking about
the moment where we all
spread our wings and
GROW, but
i am beginning i feel
as if that moment
will never come for
me.
maybe i spread my wings too early,
overexcited myself with the
potential of freedom and
turned into a modern day
icarus-
the lasting sunburn still
pinching my skin
,and maybe i never
spread my wings
at all-
maybe i deluded myself
in the same way
that i delude
everyone
crafting a life so
cloudy that
all i can do is
rain-
thunderlightningwind
blows through my hair and
damages what i have worked
so hard to
create.
i am a sandcastle whose
only purpose is to be
temporary
i do not last/
i will not last/
one day the sea will
creep its way into my
crumbling soul and
take me just as it has
taken so many
before
,and i will wash out to
mother ocean,
surrender my aching
bones and
relinquish what little
control i had over
this life i tried to
raise out of
sinking
ground.
maybe the ones who come
after me will
know more than
i do;
maybe they will
swim in the ocean just like
i did when i was
a child who didn’t know
better than to drink
the salt of the sea
/except
maybe they will
learn something.
maybe they will
drink the salt,
taste the essence of
what was and what
is and
what will be,
stumble across the shells
i left on the ocean
floor, hoping that one day
someone one would find what
i one day
found and
remember me.
