happiness, and more than that—
deservedness—
is fragile at best.
For me it is, and has been,
almost wholly
dependent upon others’
whims.

It was my own fault, for living
my life in such a way, but when
I decided to stop?
Oh, how the mountains crumbled;
the rivers ran with blood;
somewhere, a baby cried
for the last time.

That’s what happened to me
back in August, when I moved out.