How do I face you and tell you that all your hard work on me has failed?
All of the long, cold nights of trying to get me to understand that I'm okay, just for me to convince myself that I'm not.
Seconds of my mind switching from one thought to the next like a foot race, leaving me to choke on the dust.
Minutes of a calm in the storm before it picks up and washes your words away.
Hours of tears that my pillow holds so dearly.
Days of you giving me your all when I'm too weak to even give you half.
Years of hard work for it all to crumble and pour from the cracks.
I've begged for help with my eyes, screaming for a hero.
I've prayed for a sign but the only thing I see is a "dead end."
How am I supposed to look to you and tell you that I've torn myself apart, again?
How am I supposed to ask you to redo what you've done a thousand times in hopes that it'll work this time around?
How can I let you sit there, watching me fall apart before your eyes without feeling guilty?
Tell me how I got here.
How in the world did I manage to get so deep down into myself that there may not be an exit?
Tell me.
YOU ARE READING
I Have More Than A Perfect Figure
Poetry"Strength, love, suffering and healing. The gritty surface of reality written down on every page. This is a heartfelt message to everyone who can relate to the tragedy of life experiences, trauma and relationships."
