by Hannah Pickering
My walls are breaking and I’m getting tired;
I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.
This continuous motion on the divide between control and chaos.
My hands ache from holding the walls from caving in.
They ache from slathering mortar and placing bricks into the holes that are forming.
My arms feel like lead. Strung out so far and so rigid they feel brittle
As if one misstep would shatter the bones that lie within.
My legs feel weak. Knees locked in place
The numbness and tingling spreading farther and farther in all directions.
Oh, how easy it would be to just let it all go.To feel my brittle bones snap.
Pain? Yes, it will probably hurt.
But the relief of no longer having to struggle will be euphoric.
Alas, I can’t. I can’t let it all go just yet.
I still have obligations big and small that require my attention.
I still have faith that I can make it.
That I can keep my walls repaired.
But my walls are breaking and I’m getting tired.
And I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.