Survival is a Tightrope

Being me-
I'm not sorry.
I'm only sorry-
you can't see-
that you don't
let me be.

Can't breathe-
the weight
of expectations-
and the craving-
for approval-
it's just-
much too heavy.

Some days-
dying seems-
like heaven-
but- you'd die
without me,
so I put
away the blade.