Not My Noah

My tears are my fears.
The river you asked for raining down from the universe’s in my eyes.
Because only the pain I feel is being supplied.
Now that you’re drowning in my sorrow, you want me to build you an ark but I think I’ll wait until tomorrow.
I cry until I’m all dried up.
Draining my emotional lake so that I can fill it to the brim all over again.
Round and round in a circle I go.
Build a dam to keep everything in.
Skimping here or there on the necessary tools I need.
Until finally, my dam bursts, creating your flooded rivers.
Over and over again.
I keep forgetting to build your ark.
Now you’re drowning in my rivers.
No choice but to gulp down the overabundance of feelings I was forced to feel.
Your choice has been taken from you just like it has been for me.
Turns out you weren’t my Noah.
You expected me to build your ark.
To slave and bleed over it. But thay was your job.
To build up your saving grace of an ark and to cry your rivers.
But that was not my job so I only chose to cry you rivers.
The rivers you built deep in my belly.
The rivers you created deep within my soul.
So drown now.
You were never my Noah.
You don’t deserve to float.
Drown in my rivers that flow with my sorrows and pain.
Drown and never come up for air.


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