I am struggling, and broken enough to admit it now, I’m jaw clenched, hunched, waiting on this couch, a pile of sweat-stiffened skin minutes after its tussle and roll down a hill of infertile effort
I want to say the things I do, the ways that I’ve tried, the timeless want that I have yearned into my health, have done something, anything, I want for my days to be smooth and honest and up front
I wish I had it down
I need for stress to let my numbers sleep, just once
I need for angst to let my body go quietly and without additional scars
I need for my day to day ride be without bumps and nicks
just for a little while
till I can remember who I am
what I was
and where I want to be
I’m struggling with the me that wants to cope like a healthy person
because the truth is that I’m not.
I’m just grasping at the fraction of a human I want to be, that I’ll never see, and hoping
No one else sees my flail.