unfulfilled

Staring at the ceiling before I drift off to sleep,

I think of you, of him, of all the times

I've let myself down and let you down too.

I'm not quite sure who "you" is anymore

really, it could apply to anyone-

I think you know who you are though.

And the truth of it all is, I don't know

where to find happiness anymore

I read the first half of a book,

it made me happy;

but not the kind of happy I used to find

In a shared popsicle or a day with my dad.

When I was younger, I felt nothing.

I blocked it out and assumed

the responsibility of older me would suffice.

Now, I'm dealing with the repercussions-

feeling everything I've put off.

I feel lost, empty, pointless.

But I can't blame it on anything now,

can't blame it on the boy who hurt me

or my parents because I'm almost moved out.

These are my weights to carry;

If only I can find the strength.