floorboards

Some nights I feel like floorboards…

and that’s kind of it.

I miss the warmth,
the sun making its way across my surface.

Now it just feels like I shy away and recede into myself — finding comfort in the shade where I keep my eyes shut.
My hands on my own shoulders and my spine curving downwards.
“I’m never enough,”
I’ll think, resigning to it.
Cause after awhile you just kind of believe what people tell you, what you tell yourself.
Even if other people tell you otherwise, some other time.
Beautiful words aren’t reaching deaf ears
But I can’t be carried across my own mountain.
I’ll find my strength again and carry your thoughts over these valleys
and let you know when I’ve arrived, safe and sound.