UTMOST FRAILTY

Curled in a fetal position at death's door

There is nowhere else to go

Nobody to whom she wants to show

The depressed self that hates everyone and everything

Hates all of the glamour of this world and the bling

She said she hates it here, she feels trapped 

But to everyone else, she is just entranced

By what those voices make her do

Even though what they say isn't necessarily true

In her mind, she is brewing potions

Of insecurities and false notions

Everything fueled by what they say to her 

Every feeling she has forgotten is now coming back

And it is making her feel rotten

She has already crossed the bridge 

That most can't follow

All that just so that she can wallow

Without people telling her to be

Grateful for all that she has been

And to look forward to a better tomorrow

Will she find peace here at last? She wonders 

But then her mind begins to wander

And that fallacy of peace is squandered

The voices come in again and plead guilty

As she is buried in the sand with utmost frailty.