I've reached a point where my words mean nothing,
not even to me. I'm trying and trying and trying
to be that person I want to be.
Where is progress and why can't I attain it?
I'm working and I want it, but I'm not gaining.
I love...but it isn't enough.
I can be depended upon to come through when I'm needed,
but it doesn't matter.
There's something intrinsically within me that falls short...
Is that it?
Is there something that is a part of ME that holds me back?
Can I denounce this? Can I purge myself of this unwanted anchor,
Holding me in my place?
If I can, I must.
But again, even to me, these words mean nothing.
I expect them to mean even less to you.
You who sees me from the outside rather than the limited view I have of myself.
I expect you to throw these words away as mere trash, as worthless.
Just as I am.
I am throwing these words away.
I'll pick them up when they have been through the run of the mill.
When they are dirty and beaten and sweaty and bloody.
I'll pick them up only when they are sore and bruised.
Only when they are beautiful.
Only when they are no longer my words,
but the words of a long ago fool.
a hope/ a prophesy / a truth
and with that...he left. he left and he stopped using words to convey who he was. he began a life of action.
1 comment:
I just can't keep waiting. But you're not really doing it for you. You're doing it for me and that makes me sad. I wish so much that you could be what I need, and in many ways you are. But you don't respect yourself as much you respect me: and therein lies the problem.
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