Why can't I say what I mean
Or what I feel
Why is my conversation always
one-sided, a raw deal

I never know what to say
To keep your attention
I feel unworthy
Is that the intention?

Is it just me
Or is it just what I say
That doesn't amuse
That makes people not look my way.

Maybe if I didn't try
It wouldn't hurt as badly
As it does
To fail so miserably.

Sometimes
I worry
I have spent the entirety
Of my present
In the past

We are all imperfect
As human beings

Perfectionism is fine
In an abstract way

But in the real world
With all limitations

Good enough is okay
Let your work go

Don't be so worried
About its perfection

So, why does this feeling
Excite me so?
This breathlessness
That threatens me

I'm pretty sure
It's killing me
To feel
This way