You can take away the lights, the stars,
You can do it all, to make me fall
And I will let you.
Its kind of my thing, to fall.
Let my mouth taste the dust, lie down
Taking in the grief, the humiliation
Waves of regret washing through me
As warm tears turning dust to dirt.
And I know, Its my place in the world.
Its kind of my thing to cry, to hold on to pain, to let it engulf you whole
Until you are pinned to the ground with the weight of your sorrows.
And hiding behind curtains, shying away from people
Roaming in those dingy buses, until the pain in your back grazes over the pain in your heart
I know that pain too. I have felt it in my bones.
It is my thing, to mourn for the life I could have had
Where things need not be so bad.
When I want to end the poem but my feelings keep rushing on
Like a warm summer spring, gurgling from the ground.