Thorns

I should be happy with your hand in mine.

Yet the feeling I have isnt hapiness.

It isn't the unexplanable feeling that nothing could go wrong in this imaginary room built on the foundation of our relationship.

Because this room may look nice on the outside but that can't fix the rotted supports or the broken floorboards on the inside.

The foundation of the room itself which has filled with not concrete but cracked emotions and hollow bones can't continue to hold so long as these feelings of distance dont let go.

Or at least thats what I've been told.

Because when talking about us to others in my life.
They say "If life was a poker game, this is where you'd fold"

But if that is true about life then I've spent the last year and a half holding my breath under attack from a dealer who would never let me win.

The dealer never lets me win..

I start to wonder if it's just me because it seems to be that others in my life have better luck getting by.

I feel like I'm a bird stuck in plastic watching my friends while I die.

The feeling I feel isnt hapiness.

Its more like pins and needles all over,
Like one thousand minute piercing needles coating my skin.

Like thorns of a vine that is wrapping around my body and chaining it down..

I can't be free here.