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