Dead Lilies Lie

I want to live in the night, where the sun never comes.

Would it be remiss of me to request that no one exist apart from me in this span?

Where I cannot quite call out to anyone and I'm hardly anyone… No one. No one at all.

It would be better to be alone with my feelings to deposit them into the ground.

Because here I could plant seeds to grow the stalk to propel me into the sky, where the only thing in reach is the stars above and the clouds below me.

I guess it's remiss of me to want to abscond from anything and everyone.

So tired of being.

Being there for everyone and not quite there by anyone.

Should I be, I'm just a pity case.

Pitiful. That's all I am. Because if I'm not that, I'm strong.

It's disgusting.

We could go on and on.

On for days and nights.

Minds not forthright.

Because if I was ripping off the band-aid, it'd be all over.

He'd say he fails...

And I'd be making trails to lead him back to his self worth.

At the degradation of my own.

An endless pot.

The giver I guess.

The tree in Shell Silverstein's Book.

Nothing.

Nothing but anything he wants to fold me up into and all I can do is hate it.

I don't think I'm so much codependent anymore, but here.

Alive.

Here.

And here again.

If it weren't for my resolve to live so hard, I don't think I'd mind nature clicking my ticker.

One free of my own doing, of my irresponsibility…

For the love of God.

Let this life leave me naturally.