Wednesday, March 19, 2008


Did you think I couldn't be broken? Why is it that everyone thinks I'm this pillar of strength? I am just as fragile as I am stern.

I've been head of household for so long that I've often had to shield my skin per se, in an effort to not be taken lightly. I wear the mask of a warrior, yet I'm meek at heart. No one suspects that, because my mask is never removed. Probably because every time I take it down, I get scrapes, pricks, wounds, simply put, I sustain extensive damages to my person.

There is never many to show support, they all think I don't need it. No one lends a hand, they think I can carry any burden placed within my itinerary. Truth is I can't. I am bleeding inside for someone to ask if I'm ok. Do I need help, would I like a ladder, how can I assist.
More often than not, I don't mind, I enjoy forming my own conclusions, making my own structures.

Problem being... it gets heavy. One day even the strongest bow will break. Subsequently there has to be someone to help with the clean up. There's no one there because I've pushed them away or appeared stable enough to withstand the load.

I'm often looked upon for the answer, sought for the solution, picked for the priming. Who helps me? Who do I confer to? I have a couple of "friends" that I can contact for an immediate denouement, and that contact is often limited. I don't want to withdraw my feed to others, I love being assistive and appreciated; but there has to be equality. The imbalance is shredding me.
Can you take my hand for a change? I'm lost...