Teetering from reality and dreams
Life isn’t really what it seems
Just an unstable balance beam.
It’s not like I’m dying for suicide.
I’m just at a constant struggle with life’s high tide.
“Sink or swim” I no longer want to abide by.
This undescribable feeling is weighing me down.
Like a boulder with three tons of hate promising me to drown.
Allowing me only a brisk touch to the water’s crown.
With my child’s face, the water’s surface is stained,
Call me crazy, call me insane.
Call me twisted for referring this poem to her name.
Although inside I’m dying, I push harder.
And with every strength I fight because of my daughter.
She’s worth dying for to try and keep my head above water.
Sometimes I lay in bed wondering
“What the hell was I thinking?”
Again, trapped in the same quick sand
of my love for you that sinks me in so deep.
You wouldn’t know that I’m struggling to
keep myself above the surface,
trying to breath what little air I have,
as you lie there peacefully in a sleep.
I watch you so often the structure of your
face is sketched in my mind, the baby-like
slumber that disguises everything about you
and for once it’s as if you’re meek.
And although I silently lay, inside of me
screams, in hopes that you will hear me,
awaken you from your dreams, then
maybe you’ll know my love for you is making me weak
The door that could free me, still remains closed
and it’s not that I’m unable to open it, but it’s you
that stands between, unable to love me, yet unable
to let me go. Selfish, you are but in love with you I am,
unable to speak.
Black, the color of
Asphalt heated by summer’s scorch and
Cleansed by the
Knitted drops of rain.
Black is the dirt that is hidden
Underneath all the shame
Reduced to a mere
Nothing, dust, nonexistent
Eventually not even love can
Remain on a back burner.