No one, to you,
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Magulo, malikot
So here's what goes on inside my head, just so we clear all misconceptions about it being full of schedules and plans. Here's a peek into that node of humanity and vulnerability I try so hard to deny, just so that I don't succumb to the fact that I am ten..twenty..a million, times weaker than the average sap. Maybe you've seen me flash a smile and let it pass for an answer, maybe you've gotten that too often and gotten sick of the mystery I cling to. Maybe you've figured out by now, that no straight-shot answer feels safe enough to be spoken, without a smirk or shrugged shoulders. I am too far beneath the capability to answer with conviction, for fear of crucifixion. I am a million times weaker than the average sap, because I am the above-average wimp.
I am the girl who will turn red at every comeback that hits the mark and every move that makes me wonder. I'm the kid who'll stutter at personal inquiries and admissions. I'm the fool who can't come out and confess, to save her sanity. I'm the wallflower, with one foot out the door before you tell me it's time to go. I drag my neglected high school heart around on a leash on the rare occasion that I can't keep it under lock and key.
My timing (if you can call it that), is the sloppiest shit. Every time I FINALLY decide to admit, every damn time I start to fight the fear to commit, I'm left high and dry, with the need to get hit.
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