of all the marriages in the world, half end.
some are so broken, that not even endings mend.
how can i expect to compete?
when i am predestined to be incomplete?
what i really fear is being too much
overwhelming, intimidating, and such
he wants to fix my mind with flattery,
but his words can't fix twenty years of insecurity.
I disassociate because I doom myself
only the worst are good enough for the shelf.
I reside in a hypocritical orbit of the opinions of the next man.
I didn't know what I could do with myself, so I ran.
Fulfill my desire for affirmation
with commotion and loosely held fascination.
comfort my fears, and satisfy my lust.
only commit to me if you must.
because even if i could handle it
there's no way I could believe enough to submit.