Each word I write saps my strength,
leaves me hollow, craving rest’s length.
An hour to recover, to reclaim,
the fragments of self lost in the strain.

I ask too often, too much, too long,
for others to judge where I go wrong.
Confidence eludes, it slips my grasp,
so I lean on their truths, my own unclasped.

When I speak, my voice feels thin,
false notes trembling deep within.
My thoughts sound strange, a fractured tune,
a lone howl beneath the cold, pale moon.

Social threads, a tangled snare,
writing’s pain is easier to bear.
I smile, I speak, but it falls askew,
their words collide; mine break, untrue.

I don’t know the dance, the subtle rite,
of speaking soft or speaking right.
They’re right; I’m wrong—I can feel it all,
a shadow crouched behind their wall.

And so, I sit, outside, alone,
a fool replaying what was shown.
Too much, too little—was I rude?
Too polite, too crass, too misconstrued?

It boils down to this: I am too much,
yet not enough, a truth untouched.
From now, I’ll smile, lips sealed tight,
a zipper’s pull, my fragile light.

Please follow and like us:
onpost_follow
Tweet
submit to reddit
0 0 votes
Article Rating
Subscribe
Notify of
guest
0 Comments
Oldest
Newest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments

Recommended Posts

Just life

Twisted Life

Today, something twisted inside me. I rarely check the news—it’s too depressing, and I can’t stop the horrors happening—but today, I did. First story: Syrians fleeing their homes. Next: free pancakes in Manchester. Pancakes and death, side by side. We’re immune now, aren’t we? Bombings, mass graves, murdered children, all […]

Just life

Two clicks

Oh, I added a plugin, all shiny and new, To count all the visitors coming to view. I clicked and I tinkered, set it up right, Then checked on the app—oh, what a delight! Two visits, it said, a number so small, “Surely more love me,” I thought, “that can’t […]

Just life

A Journey Back to Writing

When I was a little girl, being raised by my grandparents was far harder than most might imagine. Grandparents are often thought of as the ones who sneak you sweets when your mum isn’t looking, or let you stay up past your bedtime. But mine? They were strict. Steeped in […]

0
Would love your thoughts, please comment.x
()
x