at 1am i stop backtracking
because whatever the spellcheck
doesn’t catch or care about, neither do
i. and i’m sorry for the way things have been,
but i’m walking a line i’ve crossed
before and i don’t plan to go there
i’ve spoken about more than i can handle-
coffee cups and paper ring stains-
you say you understand. really, you’re
convincing, but even i don’t know what
i mean anymore.
i’ve never been more sorry that the truth hurts
and i’ve never wanted more to stop breaking you.
i was born different, but i’m also
only human, and i have a breaking point too.
i know about caring and wanting to know
things like when and why
and if i could, i’d define them for us both.
if my voice went lower, i would send it
deep and calming and lacking
high pitched fear. i can’t claim to be happy
with what i’ve become but i’ve learned to be
content. i accepted myself, and i’m sorry that
i’ve no desire to change.