Steeped with guilt
for hating the situation I’m in,
I blinked and I was alone,
skin stretched and stained pink.
Don’t tell people how you feel, outright,
because they don’t know what to do.
They will stay home and safe
and tell you it will be ok,
when they know that it won’t.
If you allow for them to think
they ‘figured it out’, it validates kindness.
Gives them a sense of accomplishment,
for hearing you cry; when to them
it is foreign, mercifully strange.
When you throw all the bottles away
because you can the the future as a narrow,
closing road and everything peripherally
is blurred, out of focus. You need
your best eyes to see through the lies.
You need your best friends,
to keep from fraying at the ends.

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