Am I Too Much?

Free Verse

Devon Beard, via Unsplash

I don’t know how to feel
anymore.

The vastness of space
before me and the death
of autumn in the skies
leave me heavy
yet filled with nothing.

I am a land
that no soul
wants to call home.

I am an unpolished rock
that wishes to be
more than what it is —
but I settle beneath
the sands, knowing full well
that I would amount
to nothing more
than the dust itself.

The winds hear me sighing,
but they keep moving along,
untroubled by what they hear.

The waters hear me crying,
but they do not want my tears.

Now is it too much
to try to prove
that what I am holding onto
is worth fighting for?

Is it too much
to write an epilogue
where I die happy,
because I dared
to live as more than
just a bystander
to my own life?