My love,
You wove words into wool;
A spider, you strung sentences into works of art;
While I, blind and blundering,
Tried to find solace in the stitching;
Thread webs into safety nets.
Yet there was perhaps a fatal flaw I forgot to mention:
I don’t know how to weave,
And I’m really ******* scared of spiders,
And time, and loss and love and you and me and most other things.
(But mostly spiders - like heart-stopping-body-spasming scared)

So, my pretty Baby blue,
I wish you and I, a doomed arachnophobe,
Could exist between the lines of love poems,
Could spend mornings in bed with tea from our favourite mugs,
Could spend nights walking home from our favourite pubs,
Could be everything I wished for us.
But life catches on and time catches up,
So for now I’ll dip my tongue in sugared coatings,
And try to lick your wounds clean.
I’ll etch your voice into vinyl, and put your track on repeat,
An album of day-to-day complaints;
Awkward stories; and the reasons you’re always right.
I’ll sit content, and sway to the rhythm of your tune,
And watch you, my friend, my baby blue,
Move, and bloom, to the unique beat of you.
And maybe you in turn, if you wouldn’t mind of course,
Could teach me not to run from spiders,
Like I always seem to do

You told me,
You can't love me because you've lost your commitment.
But that's a lie
Because you've always been committed
Not with me,
But to your past lover.

Mama, why you hate me?
Mama, why you leave?

Mama, save me,
Save me, please.

Mama, come back.
Mama, stay.

Mama, what did I do wrong?
Wrong today?

Mama, can't you understand,
That it's not easy, this life at hand?

Mama, what's wrong?
What did I say?

You told me to shut up
The other day.

So, mama, what's wrong?
Tell me please.

So I can be there
When you need.

Mama, come on,
Don't be rude.

I said nothing
Rude to you.

Mama, why don't you care?
Care 'bout me?

I thought you said you'd be there
When I need.

But you left too.
Just differently.

So mama come back,
I plead and plead.

But I guess you're gone,
You decided to leave.

Guess that means
You don't love me.

So mama hear me out,
Before I go.

Why don't you care,
Care about me, yo?

No answer?
No reply?

Guess that's alright,
I'm ready to die.

So watch me stalk away,
Into the shadows.

And never come back,
'Cause I'm dead now, mama.

It's not like you'll care,
You'll move on.

Throughout the day,
You'll never mourn.

A sad thought,
I have to admit,

That my mama didn't care enough,
Enough to commit.

To commit to me,
And to her family.

To commit to her,
And to her life.

Guess I'll leave now,
Finally; goodbye.

my spine crawls at the realization that
"i am back for the million of hours lost
when i wouldn't accept that i wanted,
or at least discovered, death's reason."

my back breaks when i finally drop
the load of toxicity that i used to have,
the toxicity that i now visibly contract at.
but others are the ones who have grudges seeping into them.
at least, i think

i am back
but i will be gone
because commitment gives me mr.anxiety as a counselor

Commitment.

Who says it’s going to be easy?
It’s not, and never be easy.

When you commit to someone, that means the world is not about you anymore. You’re no longer the main character. There will be him.

When you commit to someone, you don’t wake up to scroll Instagram, you will have someone to be updated.

When you commit to someone, you will arrange your schedules, there will be no time for you to be selfish for yourself, you will share what you have with him.

When you commit to someone, you will try hard to connect with him, and that means you need to adjust things, and maybe you lose yourself in it.

When you commit to someone, you will not jog by yourself, maybe he will accompany you or busy in your kitchen, making you a breakfast.

When you commit to someone, you will feel love, but you need to return the same amount of love to him, or even bigger.

And that hurts.
That’s not an easy job.