I am bad at talking straight
and God forbid voicing my desires.
I learnt to keep quite
and be invisible as inhumanly possible.
My confidence went down in fires
of childish insecurities
and shadows that my family cast upon me –
imagined or not my feelings do not practice forgiveness
nor indulge in logics – they are there
and they are not happy with the treatment.
So, I am bad at communicating anything resembling important
and I avoid intimacy, like plague
artistic dramatics and creative lies
that’s what I am running on
for so long that I tend to forget where was the truth
or was it there at all?
I am small. I am cowardly
and I don’t care if you agree or don’t
Because I won’t be any different.
I am scattered and difficult
unfair and probably shallower then a puddle
but it doesn’t matter…
The point is, I am bad at straight talking
but I cannot stand you walking away
with that bright, tasty heart of yours
so, hey, in case you’re kinda willing
I cannot promise you to be up front
but I swear I am good at stealing.