The weight carried for the both of us has buckled my knees. I wish I was able to explain openly, clinicly, what is on my mind and where my wip-lashes are coming from. I can't. Why should I have to? There are not listening ears out there. You know my every background reasons for sadness and lack of motivation. So now, I just turn into the problem; when I was (seconds ago, minutes ago, days ago, last week or month...) the solution to everything. I collapse. I break down only to appear to be back up. It probably isn't as clear in the open as it is in my own head. I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and answer impossible questions. I am out of time, money, solutions, and patience. Why is that so hard to see? I hope that the positive things I have done come back to me ten fold because if this is just a game to see how long I can last, what is the point of playing? Back to packing, cleaning, tearing up, and tearing down.. I just wish that I could cry non-stop, because only when its painfully clear does anyone know that I have a battlefield in my own mind.
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