But The Label Makes Me Feel Better

I can see you, force pushing me

I have named you

Put you in a box (with a neat label).

 

But it’s still happening.

I’m still pushed

it keeps happening

I know why, though (this is comforting somehow)

But I know it won’t end well

 

Not for me

Not for us, many of us, most of us

Even those that think they aren’t us

Especially not you, you think you’ll be fine (you always are)

 

But when you push something by a cliff

To the edge, off the edge

Sometimes (not always) you are pulled too (not you)

To the bottom, together, where we all end broken (yes, you too)

And the box is shattered.

It didn’t protect anyone.

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