a fool for another day

i think im a jealous person
i think im a nice person
i think im an okay friend
i think im a person who will always fall
just a little beneath
almost good enough
to whatever the level is
that is the compromise
of the compromise
of that

i can see that you want to settle
because you stuck around
or maybe you want to settle
cuz you let me stick around
or maybe, i hoped that you would settle
and so i stuck around
but truth is, you weren't settling at all
and neither were you
sticking around

i think im in love
with people's imperfections
because its the only way
i can connect
parts of me
that could be
allowed to be seen
by you

and im in love
with how love-able
and lovable
people are
despite them
seen
and unseen

people are so
worth it

is that why
im a jealous person?

and
its true =/
i dont think
ive gotten rid of that
gripping fear
that fight or flight
but more surely flight
response
to anything
remotely
..
unbelievable

if only my supposed escape
was anything like it would be
with wings
or wings
that worked?

instead of tumbling
crawling
digging
climbing
clinging
gripping
hiding
breathing
and not

dirt under your fingernails
hair in your face
heart churning in the bottom of your stomach
then beating at your throat
till eventually
you cant even
feel it at all

--kind of escape

going by assumption
and hope
that its there at all

and secretly feeling
relieved
at the next crisis
or dilemma
when you can finally
feel it beating
once again


even if it is just fear for now
throw in laughter
or a special glance
throw in a smile
or a green post it note
on an old
plastic
rose
you forgot
you even had

and isn't it fun
picking flowers
off public (or private) property bushes
on your way home from class?
or walking to a bus stop
at the prelude
after the prelude
to the beginning of
your day
and for those few minutes
you're still
okay
and the day
has not won
yet

but i can't spell it out for you
you know its never gonna be that simple
no i can't spell it out for you

if you just realized what i just realized

...then what?

i still haven't
realized
anything yet

and sometimes i wonder
if i ever will

or if i can
or will ever
put enough weight
the necessary weight
in what i
already have?
instead of
what i dont

fight or flight response
i wonder if
these wings
have too much dirt
to lift off the ground anymore?

im counting
the feathers
that were left behind