“Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?”

        -Mary Oliver



Just Stop.

I’m tired of all of these poking prodding questions

Expecting me to have lived my life to the fullest.

But what can I say,

There is nothing to say.

I am average

I am only one.

And yes, yes

I know it only takes one to get things done,

But, come on now,

How do you expect me to plow through life thinking that I “have a purpose.”

That I can amount to something

More than myself.

And that all of this pain


And confusion

Is going to be well worth it in the end.


Well, in the end,

I feel there isn’t really a point

To allow myself to fully anoint myself into life.

I don’t believe them when they say,

“Things will get better, darling.

Trust me.”

Because at the rate things are going,

I am not convinced.

But please,

Don’t start to worry and go running off in a hurry

Thinking that I truly want to be six feet under

Because the chances are…


that I would act on a whim in order to swim in the waters below.

Although, there is a sort of enchantment that the water seems to bestow.


But I’ll continue to grind


grind my teeth

And bite my tongue

Because I am sick of people constantly telling me that I am too young

To be walking beneath the clouds that only come in shades black and grey.

And the thing is,


I am not leaving my mark on the world

Or paving a new way in gold.

So, why don’t I just stand aside and wait

Until someone sets the record straight

That our being here isn’t nearly as important as we want it to be.




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