fragile and small

I feel fragile and quite small right now. the spaces I occupy are not my own. the comfort I enjoy depends on the presence of others. my dreams are held captive by doubt and a mind that insists on the inevitability of disappointment and desolation. I step on people’s toes in my want to know them. they run and I hate the reflection even more. I am held by people who see the mess and stay. I am loved and rebuilt and I keep moving until I can’t again. so it goes.

the boulder over and over. up the hill and down the hill and up again until forever. from the top I see that my hill is not a mountain, that my boulder could be a lot heavier. I am one of the lucky ones. no sooner has the realisation dawned before I lose the boulder to the slope. I follow to the bottom and start again. <<