My last name is guilt trip.
Full first name resentment.
As bad as I wanted so many things, I never go the distance.

It’s even got me writing my poetry different.
Exposing myself to new limits and questioning everything in the universe and in between.

Now I have to distance myself.

My self pity and selfishness is what got me here in this position.
Having nightmares of demolition.
Misguided on intuition.
Love is something I’ve been misusing, only for my satisfactions or competitions.
Only thing in this loaded gun of mine is premonitions.

Now I need and seek clarity.
I once again need therapy.
I now too lack empathy.
I had to even just look up the definition, to make sure I use it correctly.
Tired of only giving to what won’t accept me.
I just hope that when the choir and the eulogy’s next me, we know what love cost.