you call me pretty and I deny it humbly
then you say you wanna **** me,
so we agree to hang out the next day.

impulsive as I was that night,
I was hesitant and indecisive in the morning.
you tell me it’s hard to kiss me,
because I’m not an easy stranger like all the other girls you’ve slept with.
I’m someone with a heart and you know I have a brain.

despite my capacity and our compatibility,
you would never commit to me, it’s not even worth a try.
we both know this,
and you lay me down anyways.

while you smother me in kisses and compliments,
my mind is raking through doubts and worries.
the emotional side of my mind overpowers my need for affection.
so I pull your lips from my neck and tell you not today.

it’s always too much thought,
and not enough action.

—

a new idea pops into my head.
I can picture it now;
illustrative and colorful,
a masterpiece waiting to be drawn out

quickly denied by darting self-doubt.
I’m already questioning my skills as an artist
before I even attempt to put my pen to the paper.
I never think I’m good enough,
it’s always ‘scrap that’.

everyday it’s a battle of getting my thoughts into pictures
and quickly giving up and turning them instead into words which never fail me.
am I even an artist if I’m scared of my own work?

it’s always too much thought,
and not enough action.

—

I know the different between what I want and what I need,
yet I push aside ‘minor’ details and negativities
for a fix, a fill, a drag, a sip;
for temporary numbing and partial satisfaction.

will I ever get what I deserve?
the question is,
will I ever let myself find it?

I’m too busy wasting time getting trashed with the wrong people,
avoiding the challenges I face with my art,
and giving up my body to people too afraid of commitment.

I claim to know my worth,
yet you don’t see me dropping
or quitting lustful nights and regretful mornings.
or pushing myself to work harder instead of sulk in my bed.
when will I have had enough?

it’s always too much thought,
and not enough action.