Tick-tock

The gravity of time holds me down;
Like a tree I’m growing up in my place,
Or a bird caged in my own space.
I keep waiting and hoping;
For my dreams to bloom,
And for my wings to come out soon.
But the harder I fight life,
The farther it pulls me under.
I’m tired of starting over every time I lose,
When giving up hurts less-
than anything else I may choose.
Call me weak for wanting to let go,
My burden is getting heavier
And life refuses to slow.
Yet whatever happens to me-
in the days to come,
I will always thank myself first,
Because I’m not where I came from.
And for you who are still not apart;
If my death arrives with a poem,
Then promise my cursed soul-
A burial next to the Sacred Heart.