Tall

Yes, I know I am tall, yes I am over six feet. The truth is that the air up here is no better than the air down there. The air up here is still plagued by pollutants and marinated in a pool of empty dreams. Yes I am tall, I am taller than the father who placed standard after expectation after stereotype upon me until I could no longer stand and I am taller than the mother who wept watching her young child grow in pain that could not be physically expressed. Yes I am tall, but not tall enough to escape insecurity, not too tall for depression, not too tall to be crushed by anxiety and fear, and not tall enough to breath a single breath of fresh air. Yes I am tall, but that doesn't mean I am strong enough to stand up to my fears. Yes I am tall, but that doesn't keep me from being enslaved by my own fragile state of being. I shatter like glass, but I shatter like a skyscraper crumbling to earth. The taller they are the harder they fall. I fall so hard that I am knocked out. Not knocked unconscious, that would be to easy. No, I am knocked out of order and into chaos. I get knocked into a world that no matter how much I deny and lie to myself, still remains. A world that thrives off of my personal misery and chains me to the weight of my own sin and wrong doing, deep at the bottom of a sea of lies. A sea of lies so deep and convoluted that no one can escape. I know I am tall, but not tall enough to escape reality. Reality wraps its arms of fire around me and burns me down to my basic form. Every breath I take is ripped from my very throat by the thought of having to face the day. Yes I am tall, but that does not keep my blood from spilling and seeping into the very earth that I stand on. I know I am tall, but I still stand on the same ground that you walk on and I still feel the same feelings that wake you up in the middle of the night and throw you through a field of torment. Yes I am tall, but I know how it feels to be short, short of breath, short of a fulfilling life, short of having a loving family, short on friendship, and short on making my dreams come true. Yes I am tall, but that does not mean I don't fall short of a perfect life and you know what they say, the taller they are, the harder they fall.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741