The ones who followed me,

racing to validation on Saturday afternoon sidewalks

they wanted neat lines and punctuation.

i thought of you soaked in insecurity, marred with the stains of wanting to be someone else

Structure and order.

temple rubbing Tuesday nights, skin shaking standoffs never ending plight

Easy to understand sentences.

i think of you, stomach a mess, presenting your best, wishing somehow this thing would leave your chest

No ambiguity.

she loved me once, i carried it for life

Words and phrases that were common enough to see your point

staring now through morning eyes at backlit screens with casual darkness shading everything

They didn’t want to read between the lines.

there is nothing else but for me to keep throwing thoughts and thinning my desires trying desperately to fit in

Tell me what to do

or at least not continue this sense of needing your nod.