Can You Hear Me?
I’m not a poem,
I’m not found in the plethora of lyrics sung
in your favourite tunes,
Exhausted and broken from trying to be perfect,
I am not...
I‘m unedited, with raspy sounds,
not anything worth listening to.
I’m detached from my feelings,
because feeling has been too imperfect
and that’s never okay...
I am empty and fatigued trying to be too much,
striving so hard,
loving too much.
Yes, I am not a finished poem,
or lovely song bursting with wonderful words.
And I am completely fine with that.