People have always told me

“strength blooms

in adversity”

as if struggling to

hold

your composure

everyday was a

good thing--

but is this strength

of someday truly

desirable?

I have always

wished that I could be

weak and

talented

weak and happy,

because really, I am already weak

and this adversity that is

consuming my life

is not anywhere close to

changing that.

strength is significance,

strength is weight and

strength comes from belonging

in this world

it does not make me feel stronger

for having lived this

utter feeling of insignificance

to close the door and lean against it

in the silent hours

of the night

overwhelmed with

the misery of a spent soul

because I could not still the force of

this misery

for a few moments more.

This struggle, this—this very

void where joy should be

does not make me feel strong

for having to live through it,

it does not make me feel talented

it does not make me feel happy

but it certainly does

make me feel—enough

to become the person

who exhales shaky breaths to themselves:

in the morning,

when alone,

when surrounded,

when at home;

so no one will hear

the toll of the day's weight—

This struggle brings a feeling

to heart that I am

the kind of person

who should not

be here, not in this world,

who should not be this

cumbersome weight

on humanity.

So if I could live this life again,

I would spend it sharpening

my talent

of which there currently is none

because talent

makes you useful

and talent

makes you feel wanted

and talent--

it gives you weight.

but this?

It may make me strong

some ten years into the future

but if I find myself

so alone

and so useless

that I do not even get past today night—

that my life does not continue

past this moment

then, tell me,

in that case

what does strength even matter?

— Make Me Stronger