Keeping My Bearings

I’m up all night, lonelier than you could ever understand.

Karma dealt the cards, a shitty hand.

Everyone looks through me, waiting for their turn to speak.

Until my voice dies out, and my confidence grows weak.

I want to reach out, but not to be a bother.

Bite my tongue, bid you ado, if you’d rather.

But somewhere, deep inside, something aches.

As the night grows quieter, the facade of control breaks.

And, like a bursting dam, I am reduced to an overflowing tide.

One more hit, and, perhaps, my tears shall soon subside.

What is it that hurts? I ask myself the same.

But the things that plague me have no name.

Anxieties and loneliness, for which I have no reason.

Each little thing amplified to an act of treason.

Until I’m upset with even myself, and thus, everyone around me.

For simple acts I’ve decided were against me.

I wish you could hear, as I hope and pray,

All the times that I wish you would just stay.

But I care too much of what others think,

That I sometimes forget I am about to sink.

I fear too much to reach out and ask,

For if you are busy, I’d rather I not feel like a task.

So I ride out the tide, and pray I make it through.

After all, I still get to wake up to you.