I have never thought that I wasn’t loved,
the love was never enough,
at some point very early on my soul, heart, head it all became tough,
no hug could soften,
but what if I merely exist in your head,
the only thing that keeps me from believing that is my utter brokenness,
you could not fabricate something that does not bend correctly,
that does not beat on time,
that will not accept redirection,
and can only half ass a rhyme.
The love you give me is more than I can handle,
it is a feeling that is foreign,
I dismember my patterned thoughts,
looking for discrepancies in you behavior because you are truly too good to be true.
It’s not that I’m unhappy,
It’s that the happiness I own isn’t enough to keep the wheels turning,
but the pain isn’t so bad,
I do not want to lose my want to want,
but I fear before I can enjoy all the things I expect to enjoy,
my want will be nothing but a shadow,
a trace on my brain that constantly tells me of the things I should have done before my abilities became so different.