I Bend

Sometimes, all I feel I do is bend.

I bend here.

And there.

I bend for this person.

And then another person.

I bend for this job.

Then that job.

I bend. I fold. I find myself ducking and moving.

Sometimes, I want to stand firm. And tall.

I want someone to bend for me. To reach down low for me. To duck and move for me.

But I don't think it would make me happy to ask that of another person.

To ask them to get down low and move under the weight of my demands.

There's no happiness associated with that in my world.

All there is...is guilt.

The weight of selfishness.

The weight of constantly winning while every one else loses.

The weight of not caring about anything other than myself.

So, I bend.

I bend because I don't want to win.

I bend because I want other people to be happy.

I bend because I don't want to carry the weight of selfishness.

I bend.