I rip the words to pieces as I try to figure out the puzzle. If I just knew what they were thinking I could figure it out.
Uh, er, well...
You see, I just, uh
Tend to
Er, um...
I just, er, sorta
I mean I...
Um, er, uh...
Fumble with my, uh, words.
My self worth depends on another's perspective.
Everything of value I am comes from another's perceived use of my talents.
I am what reflects in your eyes.
unable to trust
even those who have done nothing to hurt me
are constantly tested
reevaluated
pushed away
I am skeptical of all kindness
wary of love
Heart pumps faster
Sweat drips faster
Mind churns faster
Silence is filled with voices
Scenarios
Reasons
Hurt
Pain
Tears
No trust given to anyone
anymore
....stop thinking...
every time I see you,
my fingertips,
akin to nimble brushstrokes,
crave desperately
to paint away the
imperfections;
every freckle
wrinkle
pore
hair out of place,
ashamed.
I'm always write
Too much to say
Poetry or prose
I like word play
Rarely wrong
But perfect, I'm not
Let's just say
I talk a lot
Who do YOU want me to be?
I'll live as you wish me to be.
I have be everything to everybody.
What do you need of me?
I resist boredom. The mundane. I seek constant entertainment, action, and excitement to counter this flaw. But what is wrong with normality, plainness, reality, mundanity? Nothing, really.
No, such a simple thing.
But is impossible to speak.
Even when it really should be.
So I reluctantly say yes.
Hating the task to be performed.
