Genetic/Narcissistic Rage

I love Cyprus,

its stone-white shores,

its sun that burns but never asks why.

But here I stand,

alone,

a shadow with no hand to hold.

I am screwed—

twisted in the silence of my own thoughts,

trapped between a sea that glitters

and a heart that drowns.

Nobody is coming.

No sails on the horizon,

no footsteps on the path.

Only me,

only this weight,

only the bitter truth

that sometimes

we save ourselves

or we don’t at all.