Fragments

⤞anatomy of despair

I'm a museum of yearning,
although for nothing
in this reality,
and I long for miracles,
yet I am broken
in places you can't see,
and to wish for
something different,
I must change the person
I've become,
yet I am damaged
and too frightened
to succumb
to the things I pine for—

dreams that are
cradled in despair—

and from the comfort of
my solitude,
I can waste forever
wallowing in my own
disrepair.