Will you meet me halfway?
or must I
stay within the lines
of your chosen comforts?
Will I be myself when I’m fixed on
feeling empty & lost
And filled with only your approval?
The answer I KNOW is NO.
(I refuse to unlearn
A lesson so painfully tested and taught.)
I want to know…
Are we just wasting each other’s time?
Betwixt the troubles
That came in twos
Each desirable in different ways.
One no more desirable than the other.
Each with their own admirable complexities…
Each with their own questionable
One that gnaws and gnaws
Until a soft spot found.
The other nuzzles quickly
Without a sound.
Each perfect to themselves.
But which will my fickle, wounded heart choose?
Which will choose me in return as I am?