Sometimes I feel
like good things
are hardest to find.
I think that’s truest for

                                                love
Wh­o knows why
love is so hard to
find, at least, for
me. The thing

                                                 is
other people seem
to find it easily.
I question what
I must do to find

                                                  a
lo­ver. Will I ever
find someone to
love this fractured
body and mind?
That’s why I’ve

                                                 hidden
myself, my true
identity, inside folds
of consciousness
and fear, inside the

                                                 thing
called anxiety,
that keeps me
from truly pursuing
that ever evasive
Love.