JHem

  It was "monkey see, monkey do," "Treat people as you wish they'd treat you," Gosh, I was on my knees praying for it to be true. After being ignored once for the first time, Surprising for me, yet not close to the last time, I tended to you, hoping you'd tend too. But what got to me, Is that I can't believe, In my very own autobiography, This commandment is an absentee.

It's like digging through concrete Fingernails painting the ground A painful red from the blood. You open your hand to me, Face up without a hinge to fear, Until our hands meet to say hello. "Your hands look so beautiful, But they scrape like a knife!" I'm used to it. My beauty, it wasn't by me, for me. It was for you, and you, but especially you. So I wouldn't drown in vocal torment. My demure, my doubt, my incapacity, It's so I could win you over. At the cost of loving myself. The sparkle in your eyes, Won by admiration, Cost me. Will I ever get it back? My individuality. Or trapped by destiny. If I didn't display full of grace, Would you have spat on my face? Through living a fib I am safe.

This is my pinky promise  to myself For No more  neck pain trying to be perfect No more worn out heart on casual commitments  No more  sleepless nights  waiting on you