Wavered

Brittle bones break and choke,
swelling the tongue,
making speech impossible
But not for you

Watching with weary eyes,
and casting a broken soul,
there is nothing in the net
but lies thrown back
only to be caught again

Thoughts corrode these feelings,
and bring to life simple truths
that die before they are more
than mere seedlings sprung
from the ground

Is it so impossible
for me to have confidence?
Am I really so weak minded?
Or is this even my fault?

Time cut in half would be better
than absolutely none at all
I am dying here on the ground,
waiting for the sun to shine
as my bones are ground into powder

Is it really so much to ask
to be noticed once in a while?
Is it such a burden to merely
leave a hint of recognition?

Perhaps it is;
I do not know your story,
and I do not wish to ask
for fear of the wrath
I would face

Days pass with nothingness,
and I let it go by in a whisper,
wondering and thinking lies
How can I know them to be false?

They spread like a poison in my mind,
and die upon this tongue for fear
of the reprimanding I would receive
I must be my own worst enemy
But am I really asking for too much?

Hints used to be left long ago,
in a past I still remember
I smiled, and felt loved
Now, there is only silence
And I'm wondering, am I too much?

Only you can answer me that question
And I just miss you more than anything;
so much that it has started to hurt
Do you miss me even a little?
Do you even think of me?

It would be nice to have that confidence
that was so long ago shattered
by too many things to list