My Pain

February 14, 2011
My Pain
When I picture pain, I don’t see needles or guns
No misery there, just relief with the belief
That maybe things will get easier.

But things won’t.
And I know this.

No, my pain not being good enough, not being Candace
I have to do what she does
As good as she does
Or else I’m no good.

Everything I do is a failure.
And I know this.

I try so hard to discard
My true identity
Finding no amenity
Just the obscenity
Of the idea that I am no longer me.

I can’t be her.
So I can’t be anything.
And I know this.

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