Discomfort in three parts

I am a sickly mess.

I need someone to put their arms around me

and say it will be alright.

I feel sad and uncertain.

I need someone to let me lay my head in their lap

and stroke my hair until I fall asleep.

I am tired and afraid.

I need someone to be there for me when I’m

knee deep in all these needs.

But you never notice.

You don’t care

that I’m worn out and scared.

You have left me alone

to deal with these problems all on my own.

And most days I don’t mind.

Most days I am just fine.

But tonight I want to curl up in a ball

and cry till I’ve cried all

the tears that I hold inside,

forgetting my pride.

You know I’ve never been good

at letting it out like a normal person should.

I tend to keep pushing and keep on going

till I’ve been driven crazy and I’m overflowing

with all of the bad things and all of the sad things that life throws at me

when I walk, when I sleep, when I move, when I breath.

And I can’t figure out why or how anyone expects

me to carry on calmly when I’m clearly so vexed

by the world and its wicked ways

by the way that I’ve been wasting my days

and by the thoughts I’ve been thinking

and how low I’ve been sinking

and how I try never to let anyone down.

A little burning missile

penetrated the membrane,

and I feel it slide down my cheek.

It’s followed closely by a barrage

of its brothers.

Will I ever find the comfort I seek?


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