my love for others
and their goodness towards me
i let it permeate until i am drenched
with gratitude
and at other times
other times
i want to give up
there’s nothing that can convince me
life is worth sticking around to see
if i’ll finally be happy
there’s nothing here
my hands are empty
i look beside me and
i don’t see the flower
growing through the cracks
i see the concrete and dirt
and it feels like what makes me
ill fold myself down into
the smallest i can be
and exist here
because it’s easier
i’ll disappear into the past
become a memory of forgetting
isn’t that what works for everyone else?
and become the breeze
wouldn’t that feel nice?
become something less dense
less
just less
most of the time i carry it
and the rest of the time im just too tired
to lift any hope at all
les’nspired
