This is the first summer
I haven't had anyone consistent
Fill up my cup
Fill up my hat
I don't stand for it
The way I used to
I don't reach and croon
The way I used to.

At long last,
I mopped, organized even
My little Chicago age 28 apartment
I feel far gone sometimes
In the deep wells of my insecurity
Ink up my arm
Grow my hair long
Start running again.

I know that the life I have built here is admirable
And a slow uphill climb
I reach for opportunities
I talk about myself like I'm more important than I am in moments
I quietly tell my friends how afraid I really am.