I don't have elegant words
I'm not one to relate lips
To fresh picked strawberries

But I have feelings
They could deafen you
With their dial tone

And god I try to use them for good
But I end up finding the bad
In everything

I know you're a little rough
around the edges, I'm a bit
coarse on the inside

There are moments where
I question it all
I'm blind when you're not here

The simmer on my
hard-to-warm-up-to soul
slowly dissipates

I ought to learn to remind myself
It's okay to open up my thick skull
To let someone see what's underneath

But who's to say
I won't regret it
Like I have with every other
Gallivanting soul I've allowed
To muddy up my doorstep?