Mine is a Hard Fought Smile

These words woke me up this morning:


Shameful Ideations on a Sunday Morning

My will to live
wasn’t, isn’t
always willful.
It’s a tidal wave that
I keep to myself –

My tribe is a legend,
a stubborn and prideful
force in the world –

But I suffer
a sick mind
and a tired heart,
shredded and sluggish
it pumps blood too thick to soothe.

I look for ways out
try to exist in between the others,
regroup behind walls of a room
no one may enter.

No one can come in
to ask, demand, care or comfort.

Leave me to wither
allow me to curdle
to dry out and separate,
divorce the here and now
until my skin curls up
at the ends,
burnt and destroyed
by the fear and haunt that
I couldn’t shake,
no matter how much
you loved me.


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