Heartbroken haze

Am I the problem? Am I the variable in an otherwise clear cut scenario? I try to make my heart known but somehow that makes the fear grow.

Am I the problem? Am I giving too much away? Falling for everything even though I stand for so much, with just a touch, or a whisper it fades.

Am I the problem? Am I driving the crowd? Is my pitch fork higher, sharper, am I yelling too loud? Am I drowning them out, the voices so silent, am I supposed to hear more than them all? Should I just know? Is that’s what’s expected, is that what I’ve shown?

I am the problem, I feel to real and I can’t seem to deal when the truth is revealed I just heel.

I don’t walk ahead.

I don’t stand with pride.

I step aside. And I break. With every hit that I take from each grass covered snake. The poison will spread, to my head, so I retreat to my bed and I write, with my pen I take flight I won’t stand to fight because the past has displayed that it only leads to pain.

And I pray that the snake finds it peace because that’s who I am. I don’t wish for its end or it’s night or it’s passing, I’m just asking for peace within and without because it’s karma I’m banking and I’m to weak to be plotting, the poison is knotting it’s way through my soul, my goal is convoluted. The plan was executed, perfectly.

And now as I fade into yet another heartbroken haze when the snake has betrayed yet another new phase, I know I’m the problem, in so many ways.