Even if the door is open for me
I wont go inside
Unless you let me in
What is contained in those years prefacing our story?
Memory is a fickle thing-
Pieces of mine have been left in storm drains and deep closets
Give me what you can-
the frayed shoelaces from fifth grade and clip on ties from homecoming dances
We can trade these like baseball cards-
the patch of woods behind my childhood home for when you learned how to ride a bike
Could you spare the day you knew your mom would leave?
You can have the time I realized silence is tangible when you want company- it rests heavy on your chest as you sit alone at the table .
I take what we've traded and tuck it between my floorboards, in the panels of my walls, in my window frame
What was contained in those years before us is safe in my woodwork as you gift it to me
And the years to come will hold pieces of me
I found out recently that I am different
Hopelessly different from people I meet
All my life I've been a misfit
Unable to properly please
Pleasing to some, my knowledge is infinite
Uneasy to some my gaze to meet
How hopelessly lonely this life is, isn't it?
An INTJ female overcoming constant defeats
Tell me how things are so different
How convenient over text
But face to face I see the tension
The truth of us, and our near death
Tell me how hard you are trying
Can't you show me your true depth
Apathy is the curse of caring
It will never justify your inept
The world, I have always wondered.
Wanting, wishing and waiting to see
The things that lie right under.
Through countries, cities and people I'd meet
my drive at last was conquered.
I hope my dreams come back to me.
That the world regains its wonder.
My cat is black with bright green eyes
How I wish I knew her cries
That comes once every night
When I'm in the kitchen
She is such a great pain
When I try and clean
My broom, it did not come
With an attachable chum
Who thinks it's mighty great
To attack my chores and feet