Two pillows rest beneath my eyes,
Somber skin, cold — I can’t rise.
A weight I can’t lift, not this time,
Same lessons dressed in shifting lies.

This goes beyond,
A canyon deep and sky-high.
Each inch I climb,
Some force still drains my light.

This beating door was always cracked,
But never wept —
Till betrayal struck from behind,
And left it dust, bereft.

Did I trip?
Why am I always down below?
Why the rock, and never the marble's glow?
No, I don’t crave cloaks spun from gold,
Nor plead for eyes that endlessly behold.

I just wanted a glance —
One that finally looks back.

But answers blur, drowned in my flooded gaze,
Tears drawn by reflections I only meet in shade.
They soak the margins where I left space for peace,
Now I echo to myself, if only for release.

From mother, to every other,
Why can’t I seem to fit in their world — or fill it?