Open Sores

I am a coward with open sores.

I write and wonder how many it bores.

I hear my mind 

argue with my heart repeatedly.

I see others carrying out my dreams, 

and that’s what’s defeated me.

I am a coward with open sores.

I pretend open doors are closed 

and walk the other way.

I touch base 

with the fear in my heart; 

it tears me apart 

and makes me reluctant today.

I worry that the world will leave me.

I cry because no one believes in me.

I am a coward with open sores.

I understand that nothing comes easy.

I say I’m happy 

but even I don’t believe me.

I dream I am healed and brave.

I try to overcome my weaknesses 

before I’m in my grave.

I hope you hear me, 

I’m on all fours.

I am a coward with open sores.