Forego

I won’t let thinking paralyze me,

make moments  mere drizzles of joy.

Life has a lot of things to ponder,

but happiness is something I shouldn’t ask myself about.

 

Then why are sunsets lackluster,

stars fewer,

pure moments lost?

Why are clouds crushing me?

Why can’t I rise above my threshold of incompetence

to your levels of class?

 

Perhaps I’m not made for your lives.

Unsuited

for first kisses in rain,

for marriages,

divorces,

two-and-a-half kids,

mortgages.

Maybe I’m better

walking over your perfectly painted lines

to drive on dirt roads to bridges to nowhere,

not racing even though there are no speed limit signs

because that’s just who I am.

 

Maybe I’ve been pretending all these years,

appeasing your dictator ways.

No matter,

for it takes an extraordinary soul

to recognize the futility of adjusting and realigning

themselves to this society,

seeing the disappointments coming to bite off your eyes

and feed them to your demons.

My greatest prayers can’t come true

unless I forego who I think I should be

and put on the little black dress

proclaiming ‘this is me.

It’s going to take a bigger avalanche than society

to completely destroy me’

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741