Depending on self

as if all that is known is I

Seems to me

that all that is known stems from pain

And I, at the center

spells the name of who we fear most

The self we fail to heal first

and the first time we failed to hear

Felt like the last time

we played the blame game

And I cut into the charade

that maybe I am to blame

But even you fail to accept

yourself at

Fault

At last

a cheek does not feel spring

showering its flowers until further notice,

It is summer on this side of spring,

On this side with people who wander about

as if lost people

I depend on myself

as if all that I know is my self

I’ve found other ways to ask for help

without words to do the work

And it doesn’t always work

But the consequence is painless

And no pain,

That's the life I'd rather live with.