These hands are trembling

as the wind runs through

my hair.
I bite my lips, think about this,
my life; maybe I am tired
of despair.
I understand I told that
for what its worth
Id try.
But perhaps time does not heal
each thing, at least these wounds
wont dry.
Now as I stand here on this bridge,
tears running down
my face,
I cannot help
but find myself staring
into space.
Hopelessness and
misery are tearing
me apart.
And again I spend too much
of my time with a
broken heart.
I thought that all the fighting
would make this
pain okay,
and yet right now I fear
that Im just done with my
lifes play.