Tired of fighting sorrow
Tired of Fighting
Sorrow
I’m not sure I remember anything after that.
The moment you told me what I already knew, that you were tired of fighting my sorrow.
It’s an ending I know well by now.
I’ve been fighting this sorrow for as long as I can remember.
It hasn’t been my only fight.
But it has been the most enduring.
I’m tired of fighting it too.
God knows I wish I could stop.
But I am not as free as you.
You can walk away at any time.
You can distract yourself with pleasenter occupations.
But if I am tired of fighting.
If I don’t have anything left to fight it.
What becomes of me?
Do I just lay in my bed?
In my filth
With the consciousness
That haunts me.
And accept
This will
Always
Be?
Or do I take the poisons promising
To lead me faraway
From my endless
Fight?
It doesn’t feel like much of a choice.
It doesn’t feel like the choice I wanted.
And some days I close my eyes
And wish the nightmare flashes of my dreams away.
Visions filled with strangers
Taking
Taking
Taking
But never serving me
Familiar faces and places that are never home
Where I am always
Lost
Stuck
But keeping on anyway
Like that’s all I’m supposed to do
I breathe in hope
But can never breathe out
My hopeless
Oh how I wish, when I closed my eyes at night.
That Hypnos would deliver a comfort to my slumber.
Perhaps a hand, a caress, a reassuring gaze?
A home.
A place where sorrow is okay.
Where I am okay.
And where I don’t have to feel tired of fighting.
Because I have a people.
Ready to fight when I’m tired.
Ready to guard the door.
But I don’t have a people.
I don’t even have a person.
And would I even believe it
If I did?
Would I ever allow
Another to endure
My fight?
It doesn’t matter anyway
Because
Now
All I can hear
Is the pulse
Of
Hopelessness
Flooding
My veins
Tired
Of fighting
My sorrow
Sorrow
I’m not sure I remember anything after that.
The moment you told me what I already knew, that you were tired of fighting my sorrow.
It’s an ending I know well by now.
I’ve been fighting this sorrow for as long as I can remember.
It hasn’t been my only fight.
But it has been the most enduring.
I’m tired of fighting it too.
God knows I wish I could stop.
But I am not as free as you.
You can walk away at any time.
You can distract yourself with pleasenter occupations.
But if I am tired of fighting.
If I don’t have anything left to fight it.
What becomes of me?
Do I just lay in my bed?
In my filth
With the consciousness
That haunts me.
And accept
This will
Always
Be?
Or do I take the poisons promising
To lead me faraway
From my endless
Fight?
It doesn’t feel like much of a choice.
It doesn’t feel like the choice I wanted.
And some days I close my eyes
And wish the nightmare flashes of my dreams away.
Visions filled with strangers
Taking
Taking
Taking
But never serving me
Familiar faces and places that are never home
Where I am always
Lost
Stuck
But keeping on anyway
Like that’s all I’m supposed to do
I breathe in hope
But can never breathe out
My hopeless
Oh how I wish, when I closed my eyes at night.
That Hypnos would deliver a comfort to my slumber.
Perhaps a hand, a caress, a reassuring gaze?
A home.
A place where sorrow is okay.
Where I am okay.
And where I don’t have to feel tired of fighting.
Because I have a people.
Ready to fight when I’m tired.
Ready to guard the door.
But I don’t have a people.
I don’t even have a person.
And would I even believe it
If I did?
Would I ever allow
Another to endure
My fight?
It doesn’t matter anyway
Because
Now
All I can hear
Is the pulse
Of
Hopelessness
Flooding
My veins
Tired
Of fighting
My sorrow
