feckless and frail

emotions as ash.

I am feckless and frail.

a never-ending conveyor belt bringing forth feelings of the anxiety kind.

I am worthless.

I am blind.

I am useless and ordinary to the nth degree. did I mention I can’t see?

I am broken.

I am hopeless.

I search for answers inside wells abandoned for the longest time.

moss growing along their sides. water stale down below.

I am nothing special.

sometimes I feel best when there are no eyes on me.

my blood is barely red when I bleed.

come to think of it,

even with the best of intentions, I am a tangled web of misunderstood.

quite often I can say, my thoughts are no good.

as hard as this is to admit,

I am hurt. I am lonely. I am bitter and I angry.

I am still struggling to let go.

and as if all of that wasn’t enough, I can easily become overwhelmed.

yet, my pride makes it hard to ask for help.

I feel awful the moment,

I feel slightly better than anyone else.

but that feeling lingers

and quite often, it does not dissolve.

I might be a textbook narcissist.

I might be catty.

I might have pathetically allowed my best years to pass me by.

and sometimes I selfishly wonder,

besides friends and family,

would anyone give a damn if I died?

here I am again. being dramatic.

calling for attention, like the lead actor in a play.

but then again, it is not hard for my feelings to change.

with the flip of a switch,

I can also be logical.

I can be rational.

I can say, compared to everyone else–

my fears, insecurities, and doubts are likely the same.

I burn this note in flame.