You call me weak, and I am used to
feel so frail when I’m around you.

I’ve lost myself along the way,
turned my golden into gray
just so you can fucking say:
“She’s alright, yeah, she’s ok…”

What a lowly place to be,
your smug face looking down on me.

I shouldn’t think on it too much,
I just don’t want another mismatch.
So pardon if I seem to stall,
I need some wisdom through it all.

I need time to trust again,
settle down, maybe explain
myself why all the pain
must heal before I gain
the powers back to navigate
this new terrain.

I must return to myself,
you see,
and just fucking be!