I am not insane enough to be a poet.

I worry about this sometimes.

I am not insane enough to be a poet.
all I can offer you is
half-shelved ideas that failed to come to fruition
broken tears that refuse to cry
an inability to look at the pictures around my room because everyone in them is
so damn happy
and loved

i offer you this
the girl
who isn't sure
if she's ever
been loved

the girl who can't slit her wrists because she can't stand the pain
but who can't let go and just spend the next day with you like nothing happened

even though
from your perspective
nothing did.