WWYD - A Poem

What do you do
When your world has come crashing
Down upon your head?

Like being caught in a thunderstorm
Without an umbrella
Or a sign of shelter.

Drowning in the raindrops
Made salty by other people's tears
And fears and worries.

And you're stuck in the dangerous whirlwind
Of their wide-spreading
And inescapable influences.

What would you do
If everything you felt
Everything you thought and felt and did
Left you with a sick feeling
In your stomach
That just wouldn't go away?

It's your fault.
Even if it's not your problem.

What do you do
When your heart is caught
In your throat

Choking you with sorrow
To the point where
You can't take in a single breath
Or defend yourself
Against yourself?

When it feels like
A boa constrictor
Is crushing your chest
And you know that your
Already breaking, fragile heart
Will not survive.

What should I do
Since I'm powerless
Against the powers that be?

And I'm imprisoned
In the jail cell
Whose bars
Are my own regrets.

When the one who is the one
Has melted into
Something resembling
Nothing.

What do I do
When I'm lost and alone
An alien on my version
Of planet Earth?

Feeling helpless.
Hopeless.
Heartless.

What can I do
Now that I have become Atlas
And the fate of my world
Rests in my petite hands?

(How can my world
Rest in my petite hands?)

What do I do
Now that I am stopped
At life's crossroad
And both paths
Are blocked?

And it's
...
it's
...
it's like
---
I'll never be enough.

Even when
I'm everything
I can possibly be.

I will Never. Be. Enough.