I'm writing a paper
and crying
for all the things missed
and all the people
missed even more.
And it doesn't make any sense.
I don't deserve someone
as good as you
so please run away
before I begin to show
my crazy.
Because I have just started
to remember what it's like
to feel like darkness
isn't the only thing waiting for me.
But I can't do anything right.
Including this.
Ask anyone. My failure
is relatively well known.
A reputation
that precedes just about everything
I would rather be.
Just once
I'd like for enough
to be a 2 a.m. bedtime
and a mug of cold coffee
waiting to be reheated.
To be too much asked
but never enough answers
unless there are dinosaur noises
and teddy bear tickles.
To be anything and everything
and nothing all at once
because most days
that's exactly what breathing
feels like.
Don't read this.
It's not a glimpse into parts of me.
It's just a rant to keep me
from finishing that paper.
And a foolish attempt to ebb the tears
that now
only fall harder.