I’m not sure why
I showed you my insides.
Did I want an ear, a hug,
a who knows what? And then,
I backed out.
It didn’t feel right.
The same conversations,
our stories repeat.
We aren’t making stories
cuz we like different stories.
And I find that here
I make stories alone, it seems.
I imagine someone to share it with,
someone who gets it.
And I don’t get you either,
though not in an fun way, but in a
way I know that others get you
and before I knew you I knew I wouldn’t.
I had no space in my heart or my head, really,
to let you in, and I’m sorry for that.
It’s the nature of things, and we know
nature is cruel.
I’m not the fittest but I always survive.
Did I want an affirmation
it’s ok to be me?