Loosing.
Is all I seem to be
capable of.
I'm sick.
Not wanting to go the distance
for other people
But demanding
hollow,
ALONE.
I cry my tears,
fear what I don't know.
Thick forests
black, deep,
impossible to cope
with myself.
Terrified of what
I can't seem to understand.
Yet, I stand.
waiting with intrigue.
Open hand.
asking
for what I don't want.
What I can't handle.
What I can't breathe.
What I can't see.
And I pray. . .
I don't lose again.
