It’s Not Up to Me

I’m tired, so I hang up.

Tired when I’m close,

Tired when I’m far.

I’m chasing—grasping—

At something I can’t quite name.

I wish I could be a perfect image for you,

Flawless, unshaken.

But I’m falling,

Tipping over,

With no one to catch me.

If I fall,

Will I be okay?

Will it all be okay?

3:45 PM