i am not you.
i never will be you.
keep reminding yourself why you aren't loved the way you deserve to be
and i'll keep telling myself the day will come when you save me.
but you'll just continue to stare at my wounds and wonder how to stop the bleeding.
i'll keep having nightmares or dreams of my rose gardens but i won't get any further, and neither will we.
maybe my roses will start dying until i tell you to help my plants and my mind and they'll sprout together like wild weeds.
i'll count my headaches each day and i'll pretend that your lips on my forehead make them go away when we both know i'm still just that burden on your back.
just when my feet start to heal i step on more glass and leave my trail of blood.
maybe you'll slip in it, or maybe someone will soak it up and laugh about my mistakes.
i'm tired of everything around me and i'm closing my eyes.
i close my eyes and count the serges and nothing ever changes.
nothing grows, my plants keep wilting.
the thorns are growing back on my hips and my eyes are glossing and you can't understand me.
i can't walk straight so you carry me.
i never tire of discomfort and tears and shaky hands.
until the day he gives up
and i have nothing more to say.
i can't look at his face and i have nothing more to say.
i am tired.
where's my garden, where's my glass house and city lights in the night and the smell of rosebuds and mud. where's my rain, where's my world?
i will never be you.
i'm too tired to try.
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3 comments:
i stumbled upon your page and started reading and couldn’t stop. i commented on this one because i think it is my favorite...which is almost impossible to choose.
you have a talent, thank you for sharing it. everything is written beautifully and my day has been changed because i came across this.
That's pretty deep
It really got to me
The quest of oneself is a so intense test as that we sometimes lose ourselves in our own fragments of thoughts.
The hand that reaches out to us then is either saving or a prison.
But it is entirely up to us to choose.
Because no prison exists, no more than exists the "rescuer".
There is only a sign there which shows us a road, a suggestion for our next step.
Deny the sign and we turn our backs on our own power to be.
Because if the next step is not achieved, then the following ones are only nothingness.
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