i feel like i can never win.
as if i'm the working class,
struggling to manage a family,
three jobs, and student loans.
i feel as if i'm always in your debt.
failing to clean myself of this financial crisis,
but i remain in the same place.
a rubber band stretching in any direction for you.
waiting for the moment i snap.
picking a conversation is like
pushing and pulling a car with a dead battery.
your silence equivalent to the fall of Ancient Rome.
begging to know what's in your mind, is like asking a woman what she wants to eat.
how can i defeat you in this war against yourself?
YOU ARE READING
i can talk here? crazy.
Poesíai've been trying to let go. only seems right to. we simply weren't meant to be, or are we?
