i think sometimes that i may have
inherited my mothers indifference to friendship.
to deep, lasting, real friendship.
i get tired like her,
effort becoming like clay feet.
it's not for lack of love, for lack of fascination,
and appreciation, and genuine adoration.
but it holds me down sometimes like steel sky

i love you all, i do.
but fights make me nauseas and running is easier.
i will apologize and grovel and listen and take blame.
but if after all that everything is still of a half packed house,
i will take the boxes that are mine.

*thursday/10:41 P.M./august.21/2014