Cracks

Being passionate is about having cracks on our skin that people can see into,

but they can't see into me,

for apathy is the only me I know.

I wish I was free to be something people see as

beautiful,

or something people say “I wish I was her”

But not me, not ever me,

for I am caged

enclosed in a turtle shell of loneliness,

kept for safe keeping only I will never be set free from an

Everlasting lifetime of “i wishes”

Who am I to wish upon you, who am I to want.

People think I am privileged but no.

I am anything but.

Wishes and hopes are the things we grasp and breathe with

Like oxygen to lungs we need wishes

We need hope for it creates cracks.

But my cracks are deep and shattered, from wishes that become no more

Like my sanity.