I can't be my grandmother in that I fix people because I need repairs myself;
My own holes and tears can't be fixed by the hands of anyone else, nor can mine repair theirs.

I can't be my grandmother in that I need someone else to make me whole;
The holes I spoke of need not be filled by another,
Can't be filled by another because it won't fill me up no matter how much that person's love for me spills over.

I can't be my grandmother in that I fear abandonment;
I do not reside in the dark corners of "do not leave me" and "please stay".
Go, if you wish. Stay, if you please. I need not to will you either way, why should I anyway?

I can't be my grandmother in that I love any **** person who offers a sliver of their own,
Because slivers of the moon are almost too thin to see,
Slices of affection so thin I can't grasp
And thinness in love will thin out my own veins until I don't feel the blood pumping in the first place.

I can't be my grandmother in that I make the same mistake over and over again,
Try to love the unloveable and fix the damaged souls and talk on the phone to men who don't care at hours when I should be asleep and fear being alone and needing someone else so much I forget how to need myself.

Despite all of my "can't be's" though, it all sure as hell runs in the family.