the frustration of the lost

it becomes
impossible to
give when
it is clear
you have no
inherent value
when every
word is dissected
reconfigured
and made into
a weapon
but you wield
nothing and
all the cuts
are self inflicted
when you beg
for the only
thing that can
fix things
just to realize
you’re the only one
trying to make
things work
you’ve been put
into the background
for so long
you have become
a caricature
molded into
the antagonist
before being
shuttered in
the very thing
that caused
it all to
disconnect in
the first place

we make
mountains out
of molehills
then decide
the journey to
be too arduous
when all it
would take is
removing the
goggles of our
own insecurities
to see the
sunrise waiting
to illuminate
what has been
right there
the entire time

i watch for
the light still
even as the night
grows insurmountable
in the absence
wishing to be
seen as is
instead of as
the parody
i have become
but despite
best efforts
i can no more
summon the sun
then i can
convince the silence
my intentions
never waivered
in the slightest

4 thoughts on “the frustration of the lost

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