Elucidating Questions

I just write.

Don’t realise that these things need maintenance.

Sometimes one gets lost in the drafts.

Sometimes I’m crying too hard to remember to put them places they should go

We’re fighting I think

I don’t know

Now it really looks like I’m the bad guy.

I don’t even want him.

This is so fucked up.

It’s so fucked up.

Everything is so fucked up.

But doesn’t it just seem so greedy to have been shown two and tried and failed and turn around and say

Well can’t I have a third?

Because it’s not them it’s me

He’s beautiful and popular and has a future

He’s beautiful and famous and he’s already perfect in so many ways

And I’m nothing

And I can’t figure out how to be anything else

I’m the problem.