Unworthy

Of the heart in your eyes now

Of the heart that’s there then not, or apparent

A childhood of wanting approval

An adulthood of stubbornness yet wanting approval

A journey of knowing then not knowing but loving

Every millistep

Mixed up and

Now it’s with me, holding my hand

I want to let go

I don’t know but

Its grip is tight

And when I fuck up

It leaves marks from its nails