If I Were — Jaded

If I were fragile like a flower,
I’d have a lot of trouble finding my way.
If I were fragile like a bomb,
I’d have no trouble finding my way.
Carry yourself with the best intentions.
Don’t always sulk—
simmer.
Brush it off?
It’s like saying, “He’s the boy who cried wolf,”
cresting a world of darkness and suffering
that needs no introduction.