if my weary bones could rest,
they would sink deep,
deep into the soil where
my young feet ran barefoot,
quiet in the moisture of the
earth, the cool weight
of moss and leaves and
heavy nighttime air.
if a place existed for me,
a home to beckon me return,
it would be in the deep
woods and the still lakes,
sunshine dancing in green
patterns, a song sighing
with the wind.
Tag: depression
adulthood.
I wish I’d had the kind of childhood in which
finding out Santa wasn’t real and that my parents were the tooth fairy
were the biggest lies I ever heard,
& in which happily ever after never turned into
such a disaster
but simply faded into modernity & bland happiness.
I wish I’d never read a love story,
or seen my father through a glass wall with high ceilings
on the inside & the out.
I wish I’d never had cause to wonder if you smile the same at her
as you do at me,
and I wish that I could feel like I’ve ever deserved security.
I wish I’d done something, anything to deserve
the lies you’ve fed me.
I wish I’d never felt like the world’s worst mock-up,
a draft, unfinished,
drowning in the backwash of my own empty cup.
I wish I’d never, ever, ever,
never ever
grown up.
lightyears.
much like the stars we’ve dreamt of
and so fiercely loved beneath,
I fear that you will not see my light
until I am
long
past
gone.
that by the time you find yourself
searching for me,
there will be naught left to find
but dust and useless dreaming.
delicate.
you love me because I am “strong”,
but what if I am not?
what if I am weak and fragile,
in need of tender hands,
and precisely comforting words?
what if I am already falling apart,
struggling to remain upright,
desperate for an ounce of stability?
what if I am destined to fail,
regardless of eager “trying” and
countless tears of exhaustion?
will you love me, still,
even as I crumble in your hands
like yesterdays past,
or will you desert me?
will you leave me in dismay,
a broken pillar of strength,
a forgotten bastion of hope long past?
I have stood alone all this time,
and I want to believe you are better than most,
but this darkness has it’s hold and I am
no better, no stronger or sturdier
than the roses of winter.
iamwhatshewrote 