I'm not weak. I've always tried.
The sweet get walked on. This soft hope is dried.
Tried to do everything right. To make this one count.
But if we're counting achievements, then count me out.
Pulse like an engine. Can't make myself eat.
And each sip of water tastes like bitter defeat.
I know that taste well. Soaked into my mouth.
But the world moves north and I'm migrating south.
This winter's been too long and July is just a name.
And this snow inside won't cover my shame.
But its hell to walk through. The chill is unbearable.
My thoughts are a list of all things terrible.
I'm hope gone wrong. A clinical spill.
Straight to the bone like surgical steel.
I've seen the country. I can show you many things.
But my conscience tells me I don't deserve anything.
Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me what this kills.
And I'll tell you you can't know how this feels. |
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