Meet me halfway

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

suiting you?

following blindly

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

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

perplexities…

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?