At the limit of doubt,
you **** me with time,
we fail again to plan a love
that is almost done.

I’m too smart to fail
I’m too good to mess up
I’m too pretty to be insecure
I’m too talented to be doubtful
I’m too perfect to be anxious
I’m too loved to hate myself

I wish this was the truth.

The failure in us both runs free;
Bleeding out from wounds of love,
Snagged on broken bones of trust.
The futile attempts in all of us.

Maybe if I hadn't tried
I wouldn't have failed