It is in my nature
to feel like a burden.
It exists here, already
within my soul.
I have to work hard
to ignore it,
and it needs no help
for it to grow.
To let love in
and to feel I am wasting something,
someone, some space or time
comes quite naturally to me.
To feel the want
of something human
can cause me shame unnaturally,
And I work hard
for this not to be.
So if ever you pour water
on this already thriving weed;
And try to convince
my heart that you regret any time, space, or heed;
ah, well it will readily believe.
And the faith it may have held
in the words it may have received
will pour out upon a ground,
all to eager to abandon me.
I ask nothing of no one.
I am only just me.
I try to take up as little space as possible,
and hang on to a belief:
That some may find me
tolerably loving and sweet.
And may they never grow too tired
and forget that I am me.
I do not need convincing
of what already lives internally:
That I am not something
precious enough to keep.
-lesnspired/aq
