i will put the things i love
next to the things i hate
and let them scrap it out.
whichever one wins gets to
decide ******* me.

i dont know if i have
writing in me i dont know if
i can be honest with you.

you the reader that is.
there is so much i cannot
tell you. i can tell you how
i feel but that does not
make for compelling words.

i thought this was supposed to
be freeing. i have never felt so
trapped by openness.

someone should just tie me
to the headboard and leave me to
melt maybe then i could
be honest with you
the reader.