"THE DYING SPIRIT"
Like a vehicle with a quarter of petrol in your tank
or the last 50 in your bank account
Like a tired athlete after a marathon,
groaning at another round
Like an endless conversation
with a narcissist who demands
that you agree with them
Like a weary street fighter
noticing enemies at every corner
when all they want is to just go home
How do you explain best
about the state you’re still in?
The smile you fake, despite this restlessness
Perhaps you need another vacation
Should you carry on,
even on your own?
It’s a dread to trust anyone,
after the last time
you were badly broken.