november poem by isabel daniel

something in me is unfulfilled.

maybe it’s the longing

the desire to hold someone in my hand

and project my happiness into them

pretending they’re the light of my life

filling me with the joy i’m too scared

to let myself feel on my own

because how could i afford

to have that much power

or my relentless drive to succeed

a thinly veiled cover for

the debilitating fear of failure

pinning my soul to the edge of the universe

telling me if i can’t touch the stars

i must work myself to dust

and be carried to the sky to join the chorus

of lost voices who were never good enough

until they fell apart

i am one of the broken

who can’t shake off their dreams

they still half believe in

though they have been shattered

by doubt and worry

always searching for the magic key

that fills the gaping hole inside of you

with an unattainable satisfaction

that finally makes you a complete person

in a non existent way

perhaps i will always be empty.