At wit's and rope's end,
I cried out for care,
since despite my searching
no one was there.
I wanted connection
just one last time
a stranger preferred
no reason or rhyme.
I'd reached the end
of my despair,
and there was one face
I wished would show care.
But I would not break down
and make that call,
for fear they would feel
they'd already given their all.
So I went to the store
to drown all my pain,
and forget about living
while I circled the drain.
And right there in front of me
a vision so great;
my favorite person
served up on a plate.
My heart stopped, stomach clenched,
my eyes didn't believe,
I turned and ran
lest he see my heart on my sleeve.
Vulnerable, transparent,
a total mess,
I knew he'd see truth;
I'd have to confess.
And the dilemma it seems
is quite bittersweet;
the one who brings calm
also ushers defeat.
If the problem pervading--
even though in my head--
is brought on by another,
how can I seek him, instead?
To see that which you desire
and also fear most,
is a bit like witnessing
a departed friend's ghost.
Will I despair or relax,
will I find stress or serenity,
will I hold strong or collapse,
decisions feel like an eternity.
Panicked, uncertain,
the moment surreal,
I ran for my death
since I could not feel.
At the bottom, engaging in
acts of despair, I wanted not
to see concern or a
sliver of care.
I didn't want disdain,
or disgust or remorse,
no faked smiles feigned
as a matter of course.
Don't see me at my worst,
I can't lie to you,
I don't want pity,
I just want to be through.
