Why do I trust so easily?
Why do I expect so much?
Why am I writing this;
this whining, self-pitying thing.
To get it out.
To hope they see.
I trust so easily.
I expect so much.
So little do I get in return,
when I give all I can.
Forever destined to be the confidant,
the problem solver,
the girl who wasnt ever enough.
Light can overcome the shadows,
but I'm too weak,
and the shadow my light casts,
is too strong.
I give up,
I let go,
It's unrealistic.
I'm destined to be the friend,
the aunt,
the sister,
the daughter,
the confidant,
never the loved.
There are whispers of love,
but are any true,
do any love me;
and love me enough to let me see,
to give me time,
to wait it out?
I wish,
but the stars I've wished on,
must already be dead.
I have a knack
for finding the pinpricks of light,
without any life to share. |
Submission Name: Why?
