I’m not the savior, an honest poem (285/365)

To some extent
We all feel imperfect
And alone and stressed
I tired to comfort her
Folded arms
She stares at me
With a look
More offensive
Than a middle finger
More potent
Than I hate you
More harmful
Than needle
I’m tempted to flee
To quickly think
Of ways to evade her
To leave and never
Ever re-approach her
But alas I know that
Would only be
Yet another Domino
To deepen her theory
That everyone leaves her
She spews acid like words
And I try not to breathe
It hurts too much
To see the world like she does
Everyone’s a bad guy
She the only damsel
an inactive one at that
And no one ever saves her
I think about telling her
That I don’t know
What she thinks God did
But now is the time to make-up
And I don’t know why didn’t say it
Probably for fear
Of that look or eye roll
Or a condemnation
My name on list of people
Who burned her
Or her thinking that I’m
just another crazy Christian
Set to ignore her
But I’m not judging her
I’m just concerned
Either she needs to
Change the narrative
Put one foot in front of the other
Or she needs to get back
Together with God
Because it breaks
My heart to see her lifeless
Regardless I can’t
Listen to the same story
Over and over
Because I just can’t
I can’t keep making
Suggestions and watching
Her just cut deeper and deeper
And bleed on out
And of course I love her
And I just struggle
Because I simply
Can not keep listening
I’m not a savior
I’m not even brave
I’m struggle with
Expressing this
Because it’s overly honest
I’m pretty imperfect
That way

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