When did I stop feeling?
Pain,
happiness,
the touch of the one I love?

So plain and wooden,
hard and cold,
almost as if inhuman.
Where's the sensitivity
I had growing from within?
The softness of femininity
and concern for every one?

Burden by the everyday tasks
and falling in between.
No longer able to breathe above it all
and struggling to just be me.

It should be easy to be oneself,
but somehow it is harder.
Everything around me
tells me otherwise.

Who am I?
Only Gods knows that.
So I guess I will have to ask Him
to show me the inner me.

Copyright 2012 Tanya Weitzel

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