afraid of what happens next
my gut wrenches in anticipation.i feel embarrassed at the thought of you
thinking of me.
if there was anything i was ever good for
it's been intelligible humor.
pristine opportunities
jaded by lessons of respect.
we're not allowed to commit these inaccuracies
as we're engaged in others.
misguided contact
i read too deep in the shallowest of prose.
inquiring for a symphony for which i could orchestrate
my mundane thoughts and feelings.
my confidence is as unappealing and as infrequent
as compliments received.
i apologize for being invasive.
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