I walk up the stairs in a rather unorthodox way
preferring my step pattern to never stay the same
since for years I dabbled in forever and
always pays
always laughs
always makes the first move
Now,
always late, always last, or at least never first
an unquenchable thirst for connections and friends
and un-sad yet unhappy terms coming to ends
with immune systems weak, we're crumbling in the end
but it's only me bleeding out my ends from a poor ulcered tract
For years they've begged me to put on a smile
and I still find it a struggle to stay in tact