Sometimes
I hold onto Supposed To
So hard
I squeeze Hope right out of it
Seeds of Joy
Slide
Down my wrist
Catch in the hair on my arms
Contentment’s soft rind
Torn
Lodges under my nails
The citrus smell of Happiness
Released
Lingers in my nose
Stings my eyes to tear
I am so tired
From squeezing
It dries
A sticky, thin crust on my skin
That when
I can finally bring myself
To come clean
Only the scent remains
And I can remember
What is meant
To be
No comments:
Post a Comment