with myself

When I sit with myself
These questions I ask have me rummaging through filth
Had plans when I was young
An insatiable hunger
Every year it gets weaker
Pressure builds then it lingers
Plans slip through my fingers
Put myself through the ringer
Caught in the things I can’t see

And I realize with horror
That I live in tomorrow
Losing life in my sorrow
Of what if and can’t be

I give all of my love
Never leaving enough
To give back to myself
I don’t need it I’m tough

Yet, maybe I’ll stop weighing, measuring, poking, prodding, criticizing. But to you I’ll make a promise. I will never be as unkind to you as I am to me.