“Extra”
An original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell
Everyone I’ve ever met… is afraid they are not enough,
but what happens to those who are too much?
Time and time again I’m reminded of my extra… baggage.
I’m lost at the intersection, and it always comes to this..
My confessions my obsessions are far to intricate.
What once enticed often intrigued you, was the same thing that chased you away.
I never meant to be too much… to loud… to extra.
I never meant to have too much baggage… to many relationships failed…
To. Much. Trauma. I never meant to be too much. I never meant to be.
I never thought I wasn’t enough… It always comes down to the same thing.
One day I will learn to water myself down,
Empty vodka bottles at the age of fifteen taught me this: No one will ever know the difference.
One day I won’t be too much… you won’t need to chase me with coke… you won’t need to water me down.
I will hold back the tears until I choke.
This isn’t a lesson I have never spoke.
We are all starving for a connection, except me,
Lost at the intersection begging to stop my confessions.
