I had the thought 

that if you could see me in my private moments

that you may fall in love with my reactions;

how I feel 

when a smile cracks across the face of the squirmy boy

I'm helping read a book when I say

"I'm so impressed!"
If you could see

when I'm packed away in traffic

covering rap verses like I own the pain 

      or party they were inspired by, 

how my eyes stare off into a mental sea

     & come back to think of something funny, 

how I rest my head on top of a fat, familiar dog 

or even that long sigh before I step in the shower,

I had the thought that this could make you love me;

if you could see

how I want to share my love-

       but it's uncomfortable 

    for me too,

because I feel like it can't all fit,

     it's too much to carry,

it's too heavy for you;

     what was meant to hold you

chokes your definition of it.

But while it always felt like it was suffocating you,

I felt like I was speaking a different language, 

one you were never taught,

      one you avoided understanding,
& you don't want to read it,
       you don't want to see. 

I feel his hand

         loosening from my thoughts. 

I say goodbye to a kind of love 

I can't wear everyday. 

I leave behind my wounded pride 

& dreams of a changing mind. 

Now I feel a goodness

         I haven't grasped,

but slowly

         I am understanding the touch.

You let me be tangled in you

         & you don't fear getting caught.

You want to see me 

         from all angles,

You want 

         to breathe me in. 

I'm aware of my self destruction 

like Alice drowning in her tears,
    making everything bigger than it is. 

I'll wrestle a task,
               drink away the night,
scratch up my skin,
       call an ex.

I'll find a new problem

          to lose focus on my current one. 

I'll stir sleeping thoughts awake
          instead of waking my ambitions.

When there's no tv show muting my thoughts,

          no pair of eyes distracting me from my own,

I look anxiously for other noise

          instead of listening when it's quiet. 

I torment other scenarios 

that aren't this one.

My thoughts storm 

& everything I have left to sit outside 

          is soaked & heavy by my negligence.

Obstacles collect in the yard,

& I can only smile & trip over them for so long before

          everything is all at once, 

          & it all seems like a mess.

I could pretend it's fine & close the blinds,

but here they are 

haunting me 

with different faces in different ways.