M. Hank

I’m sorry I got that question wrong.

I’m sorry I can't move on.

I’m sorry I'm not smarter.

I’m sorry I couldn't be stronger.

I’m sorry how I take on as much as I can

Sometimes I look into the reflection and see the little boy with forest green eyes 

begging the world to end so he wouldn’t feel anymore. 

But then I see an old cripple 

Whispers so cruel flood the news,

Filling many hearts with fear. 

Some listen to only what they want to hear. 

Their denial leaves a black and blue bruise. 

This morning I woke up

to find my phone hadn't charged last night,

so I plugged it in while I stumbled through my morning routine

and picked it up right before I hurriedly left the scene.

Turning away from an old life

Tricky and sometimes with strife

It’s full of things you think you want

Sometimes it will dare to taunt

Why must the things we want be of danger

my anxious heart,

it haunts me when i finally decide to nod off,

whilst my anxious mind whispers old and embarrassing events,

and eventually i am wide awake again,

bug eyed,

and holding the covers above my head.