Why can't I trust
That all you say is true.
I truly can't believe
That the truth could sound this good.
I hate the reservations I have
Toward those who have reservations
To see and feel my emotions.
Appointments with the person
Whose personality is not as personally oriented
As some would like it to be.
But don't assume you know me
Because assuming just creates types
Which I try to undo with these types
That I pour my soul into;
But they somehow only seem to fit perfectly
Under perfected soles of shoes.
And do not try to read between these lines
For I often do not foresee these foretelling's endings.
I perceive that under these pretenses
Which do seem to be a bit false
I may leave a conversation abruptly
Trying to preserve my reputation and not make this situation
Worse.