Its hard for me.
you question my impatient sighs.
I don't mean to lie to you
but the truth is unfair

I can tell you I'm tired
or my mind is stretched over other things
but honestly I'm sick

This knot in my stomach
is a product of an image.
of you before me
of her hand in yours
of your lips on hers.

its hypocritical and sad
I've done the same
if not more.
Though, that won't put this thought to rest

Be patient with me
i know its unfair
just know that this fear
is a product of an image
of what i might lack

tell me I'm  good enough
its something i need to hear
its a need that i feel in the deepest the parts of me
a longing
something I'm reaching for
Something I've never attained.