I am Weak

I cannot see it, the Good in the Bad.

I can only see this

Darkness filled with my angst.

I am weak.

I am human.

And Honestly, my heart is broken.

I'm tired of choking,

On the exhaust of old love.

Gotta find,

Move,

To another drug.

My heart is trying to fix.

All of the things I reminisce.

And Honestly, it's not just a past lover or friend.

It's everything in the end.

Why didn't my life end?

How much time did I spend?

Plotting and rotating the thought,

Of throwing it all down. Running away.

For I am weak, this is the truth.

And I cannot get through this alone.

My constant is mediocre and my depression constant proof.

My Ancestors!

Bless me, please. In this moment where light is far from my eyes.

And all I can think about is the "Why?"

Why my Mother, My Grandmother, My Aunt?

Why were all of my elder women put on a chopping block?

I am aware that everything has its time.

It's been proven to me many a time.

And my days have piled onto the spider's web.

This is all lost. All old memories now.

Sweat I've long wiped from my brow.

So I am aware.

Please believe me.

I Know.

The past is the past.

It's the residual pain that always lasts.