"I'm tired and twisted, barely breathing, buried in the dark...
A could've been.
Don't be concerned, that's just the power of a breaking heart....
How good am I at hiding it?..
Take me off your worry list, it'll be better that way."
My worries are a mile wide,
Ten feet long,
As tall as the weeping willow in my neighbor's yard.
They drag me down, they slow me up,
But I never break; I always bend.
I got this.
These worries were do-able, bearable,
It was stifling, I was worn,
But I carried them and filed them neatly
in stacks on my dresser,
being sure to triage them when time was on my back as well.
There was a comfortable misery in my known unknowns.
I was the person others would marvel at:
"How do you do it?"
Smile. Grin. Bear it. Add another worry to the list.
powerful, mind-blowing, earth-shattering peace,
smooth skin and strong hands-
my worries are heavier,
weighted down with tear-stained hopes,
mingled with weeks of weary disgust at my weakness,
wrapped in your hoodie I sleep with now that you are gone.
Who knew fear and loneliness were so powerful together?,
Adding decades to the sadness under my eyes and drowning out the sound of your voice in my ear.