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Frances Marie
Poems
Aug 2017
Anxiety re shapes me:
Where do I begin?
Why do I try every time you say "it's fine"?
I can't tell anymore with the feelings I receive.
First it's something I have to believe,
Believe in what? A sign that I cannot see?
Why should I be naive?
Nothing make sense the more I think about the contradictions.
Do they even synchronize; our emotions?
I cannot tell.
Not until you yell.
It doesn't have to go on for so long,
So why must we chase something if it seems like we don't belong.
Our friendship is an unresolved issue.
Always getting ready to argue.
Will our years of friendship be the same?
I care for you, but do you only feel sick around me?
I've made my mistake,
but I plan to get back into shape.
I want to confront you but will it make it worse?
Am I now on a high horse?
You tell me all of my flaws,
all of these laws-
Like it's a word for word scripture.
I always need to re sculpt;
Just to fit your mold of ideas.
I'm not trying hard enough,
yet my efforts don't matter through the rough.
I just seem too broken for you.
Or maybe, as always, I'm just making up you view.
I just have bad anxiety and jump to conclusions too soon.
#anxiety
#friendship
#naive
#fine
#anymore
#rough
#mad
#scripture
#sculpt
#mold
Written by
Frances Marie
24/Non-binary/Ontario
(24/Non-binary/Ontario)
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