breathing, being, breaking
why am i
incapable
of finding
words
sufficient
to describe
these feelings?
is it so
impossible
to piece
together
enough to
make you
understand?
does the
lexicon
of my soul
surpass
even that
of my own
tongue?
how could one
spell out
the weight
of a
guilt-ridden
love?
the complex
coexistence
of fear
and
desperate
desire?
the incessant
taunts
and cries
of my mind’s
ever-present
narrator?
i can’t.
so i trudge on,
one heavy
footstep
at a time,
ignoring
the crunch
of my shoulders
beneath
the burden
of my own
being
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