You are the unbearable sort of thing that I wouldn’t want to wear on my feet, even with boots laced up to the knees, because wearing you would force me to cover my polka-dotted toes,
And anyone who would want to compromise my innocence like that is horribly patterned and dull,
                                              
Like the lone argyle sock with the tag still attached that I hate, gathering dust on that shelf in the rain, where the rest of my unwelcome thoughts have found place
                                                           ­     The ones that can’t cover my insecurities
                                                    ­                            Or don’t flatter my figure at all
              
                There’s an obvious scab on my ankle that won’t heal
                Embarrassing, really
                It came from my unwavering faith in open-toed stilettos
                                You saw it just the other day
                                And I blushed as I tried to pull my pant leg over the sore, but you knew (I think)

Oh, the puzzling urge I have to be made over by the brains of your outfits!
                                                So I can open a closet of conversation topics that would suit both of us just fine

I think
                                                I have shed 18 years of ideas in the past two weeks
                                                I starved myself until I could fit into the apparel of your approval
                                                Which I claw through my closets but still cannot find
                                                But I know that somewhere in my brain beneath an empty toilet paper roll or stuck on a dead branch of ideas is a match to your unbearable pattern-
              
Perhaps if I’d kept my opinions more alphabetized, I would’ve found it sooner
                Blast, my scattered brain that can’t seem to produce any fashion but faux pas for you
                Logic and emotion were never meant to mix like this- trust me, I know well
Give me a summer to rearrange myself, hmm?
                Or will I have no use of you then…

If only I’d started to realize sooner
We’d be peeling oranges and discussing the oldest styles of thought, you and I
                Beneath an umbrella in the rain
                                You wouldn’t be able to see that odd scab on my ankle
                                Because I would have the other lone argyle sock with the tag still attached that I hate-

I feel that perhaps
you are only unbearable because I wish you complimented me better, that perhaps the reason I’m starving myself of all reason is because I’d like nothing more than to openly say
that I hate you, my lone, little argyle sock
                                                but that is only
                                                because right now, I could never possibly hope to wear you

and maybe ill go back and rethink every heart wrenching decision that ever came across my mind
anything that ever affected me in any way that made me change my thinking
when im wrong and i cant handle it
when i sit in complete darkness and thing about you
but i think about the comfort that im  not feeling with you here
im thinking about if you were to be here and them comfort i still wouldn't feel and how that would make me cringe and cry and never want you and make me need you and realize that the things that i want aren't the things  i need
its a change in the security of the things of need
a thing in the displacement of the things i need to feel that void in my heart
its like waking up and needing you by my side but when i see you there i realize that i just wanted that physical aspect of seeing your face to fill the void of everything i couldn't handle
not the meaning inside of myself not knowing what i want right when i want it
its the simple thing as if not having you there is enough
its the self reliance i need to feel to make sure that me, myself is good enough with having enough comfort in myself to know how to handle situations alone
being alone and knowing how to handle things alone without needing you by my side
mentally, and emotionally
and ill look you in the eyes
and tell you that i need you
and look in the mirror
and stare at my reflection
in realization that i've needed myself a lot more all along
and you can ask how im going to be without you
and i have a good sense that ill be fine
until you find someone else to write about and call mine