Worn Down

 

I am drained –

beaten, bruised, exhausted.

Pain washes over me

in pounding torrents,

Like the surf,

Steadily undermining

The flimsy foundations of my

“here in time” life;

Separating me from myself

and making me wonder whose life

I am living – this

cannot be my own.

 

I was never this weak,

never this susceptible to

A kind word, a pretty face;

never was I this

Desperate, this vulnerable

to a simple smile.

But your blue eyes, when

they shine with sympathy,

Make me want to let you

protect me from life

And the rapidly approaching dawn

like the weakling I am (not).