I made the same mistake I always make,
Promises to myself that I never want to break…

But I do.

As if my swan song is on replay.

Imbibe, Undress, Feel Alone, Regret.
Regret.
Regret.

Women are supposed to wait, not give so much away. There is this whole game that I never had even begun to play while others were already in the advanced stage. I know there is something different about me. I can feel it in the way people talk as if there is something they are seeing that I am not feeling. The disconnect feels like a gap that is widening and crumbling away underneath my feet.

I made the same mistake I always make which ends in me being comfortless
Strangers ask me how I could be single in comparison with the characteristics that make up me, as if beauty was mutually exclusive with companionship.
I want to tell them it’s because I’m crazy.
Because I choose to pursue men who I cannot obtain and usually only after I’ve given anything they could possibly want away.

I’m exhausted and distressed
Afraid that my mistake will consume the only male friendship I had yet to taint
Disquieted knowing I could easily desire more when you do not feel the same.
Assuming every ignored text is more then a simple coincidence
Lost and afraid my comfortable place, my friend I turned to when I wished everything else to fade away, is no longer available free of any constraints.