Knees Facing the Sky

 You know I sometimes ask myself,

why do you sabotage yourself?

And sometimes I find it hard
to answer that question
and I leave myself hanging.

Because what do you even say to that?

That I wish someone cared?
That I wish I mattered enough
for someone to stop me?

But then I think...

Why would they?
Why would anyone else care
when I, myself don't,
when those close to me don't.

Then that brings me to those close to me
and I think,
are they even close to me?
Do they even know me?
Have I tried to make that effort
to let them close to me?

I don't even have to answer that,
because I know it
deep in my bones.

In the moments where I could break the wall made of ice
that stands between me and my 'close ones',
but I don't,

except I lay down bricks
and slowly pour mortar over them
and oh so skillfully butter the wall up.

Because behind that wall
I don't have to spend sleepless nights
wondering if I said the right thing.
If what I said was enough for them to care.
If they will finally ask me about me,

the real me.

But behind the wall,
there's no such thing,
I don't have to name five things that I see
and five things that I can smell
and five things that I can touch.

So, behind that wall
I don't have to worry about every little thing,
about hurting others.

So I guess in a way
all that's left is...
me.

So I sabotage myself,
not because it is my version of self-harm
but because somewhere deep down
I guess there's still a part of me
that believe, no, hopes
that sometime, someday,
someone will help me up from my knees.

In a way that matters.

It's not that I'm not strong enough
to pick myself up
but It's just that I'm so tired
of standing up
and finding myself staring at the puddle on the ground,

tired of stopping my eyes from wandering
to my shoulders
searching for a hand
that was, will be never there.

So I guess I will just continue
to ignore the pain
and my scraped knees.

So what if I'll wait.

I'll wait on my bloody knees
until I feel a shadow of a hand
caress my shoulder.

I'll wait,

because if I stand up alone one more time,
that'll be the last time I ever stand on my feet
and the next time I fall
it won't be on my knees

and the puddle will be the water
they wash me with
before they put me in the ground,

this time
with my knees facing the sky.