Me:Why are you angry? Why the heaviness?
AlsoMe: It’s like a shadow, a shroud of emptiness.

Me: Your eyes look sadder, like they’ve seen too much.
Me:They’ve witnessed battles; I’m aching to touch.

Me:Touch what? Hope? Or the light of a dawn?
Me: Hope feels distant; it’s fragile and gone.

Me: But isn’t it worth it to reach for the sky?
Me: Every time I reach, I feel more inclined to cry.

Me: Crying won’t change the weight on your chest.
Me: But holding it in feels like a never-ending test.

Me: What is this anger? What fuels this despair?
Me: It’s the silence that screams; it’s the burden I bear.

Me:Share it with me; let the truth be spoken.
Me: I’m scared of the words; I fear they’ll leave me broken.

Me:Broken isn’t shattered; it’s a chance to rebuild.
Me: But what if the pieces are lost and unfulfilled?

Me:Every crack has a story; every scar holds a tale.
Me: My stories are heavy; they anchor like a nail.

Me: But aren’t they also wings? Aren’t they lessons learned?
Me:Lessons feel like chains, so much I’ve yearned.

Me: You’re stronger than this; you’ve fought through the night.
Me: But I’m weary, I’m tired; I’m losing the fight.

Me: We all have our battles, our moments of...