forgetting what I'm all about.
The dull clamor of anxiety
overtakes my ability to
accurately perceive myself.
I start asking him questions:
Why do you love me?
Who do you think I am?
What is it about me that makes me so goddamn special?
He mistakes it for insecurity in our relationship
and tells me to stop trying to quantify his love.
It's really just me being lost
when it comes to myself.
I don't remember
what I look like without looking in the mirror.
I couldn't tell you
how my voice sounds.
I don't know if I'm religious,
if I have friends,
what I like to eat,
or how to make scrambled eggs.
What's my phone number?
Who the fuck am I?
What a frenzy in my chest,
and I just want clarity.
I think he thinks I'm too intense sometimes.
But Jesus Christ, times like these are scary as I
clutch to what others tell me about who I am,
even small comments in passing. And I
analyze them.
I'm too scared to start going back to Church,
I think it might be a crutch for some people,
and I don't want to rely on anything
but myself.
Whoever that is. So I guess Church isn't an option.
No comments:
Post a Comment