stuck

pre-text: yet another creation of my "dry" season

muse: people that bugged me when i was feeling already ugh inside

the candle's blown out before the wax has even melted
i sit alone again in my space
questions swirling all around in my head again
like dust particles that never settle, they drift about
never can make anyone or everyone happy
so i lived in my skin and maybe then i could smile
one by one they came and one by one they left
too much for one too little for the other
what is there left within for myself
nothing is ever enough
my love my tears my efforts my everything
i give and give and you just take and take
and we both still end up dissatisfied
maybe I need someone to focus on
or someone to pull my strings, be their puppet
do not want to go on slamming myself
have to point the finger of blame away from me
only defeat with every single thing i do or do not do
know not what else to do
hope is symptom of despair
i will live in my skin, i will rock my body in solitude
I will sit alone again in my space
let someone come to me instead for a change
then the candle may burn longer, or at least brighter.