Too Much and Not Enough

I put so much into you.
TraumaDramaFactsSadnessIrrationalIrrationalSad
I still overflow, though.
Make no mistake.
I am a mutated flower with too many petals.
I am a storm-riled ocean with only strength in uncontrolled waves.
But they’re not uncontrolled.
They’re precise.
I don’t pick and choose battles,
I fight out of myself and hope
it catches and hurts more than just the
people close.
But my only revenge is the never calm.
And the force that continues to brew and brew
under my skin
to pour out.
So while I pour into you,
I do not become emptier.
I fill in compensation.
I don’t even believe I’m trying to take weight off my shoulders
anymore.
It seems I’m trying to give you some of the same platform
but every word I say is an omission when your ears can’t carry it.
I try
to put
a weight
on you
but
it’s
only ghost
when your arms are constructed of the wrong things.
I remain so very and deeply filled up
and made sick by the things I know.

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