I don't deserve it.
I want it,
but I know that I shouldn't have it.
You're that last drink,
the one that sets you
over the edge
before you do something stupid.
I don't want to hurt you.
I don't want you to hurt me.
I want to love you.
I want to give you my heart,
but I can't find it.
I don't deserve your care,
because I'm a wreck.
I voice my opinions
and then let them hang.
I'm dramatic and weird,
but you're weird too,
and that's one of the things
that make me smile
when I picture you.
I wish we could talk,
sober as a judge,
but being sober is hard work
when you're lost and confused.
Run run run
to your bottle or your stash.
Run run run
away from you're problems.
Run run run
away from SOMETHING
that would finally make you
truly happy.
I'm always running,
and you are always forced
to try and keep up pace.
But oh,
I've been running for so long,
and my legs are longer,
stronger,
and deadly.
I want to stop for you,
turn around,
and give YOU
what I don't deserve.
Then
maybe
I'll be a step closer
to being a stronger person.
I'm weak.
Fucking weak.
I want it so bad,
and so do you.
So let's give it a try...
but first I have to stop.
Stop time.
Stop running.
Stop caring about frivilous matters.
Stop forgetting.
Stop escaping.
Stop.
I have to stop telling myself what to do, and finally do it.
Samantha Bursich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-best-problem/
