Mixed-Medium Project: Something that Begins with M

My Mountain

It is exhausting to be told

about the mountains I have made

from mole-hills.

Don't you see the pick

and the spade I constantly keep

strapped to my aching back to

knock down the mountains that

rise up and block your view

of beautiful dusk and dawn?

Can't you see the grey bags

under my eyes getting heavier

and harder to carry as I lose

night after night of sleep to keep

your path to my heart level and

easy so that you hardly notice you've

had to climb at all?

Some days all the terraforming

is too much. The road gets bumpy,

but all you've known are the paved

paths of my perfection, so you can

only see the cracks.

I am tired of tearing down my mountains to make you journey

easier.