There are days when it is obvious that I am jealous
The days I am complacent.
Mornings that desire spasms,
But nights are still lonely
Hours when greed gets the best of me,
Or any other emotion that does the same
Moments consumed with guilt,
Minutes filled with hate
But only unto myself who is the fool
Seconds of foolishness that only increases the anger,
Not directed at others but myself.
Who else can I vent my anger but unto myself
I stand by idle while turmoil spreads,
Yet do not know what to do and so feel helpless.
I feel as though I take up space,
That can be better used by someone else.
Only I stay because friends and family urge me on…
So here I stand on the precipice
But to what I don't know…
…what am I waiting for?