Not my best poetry, but I don’t think we will get there today. Yes, yes, I am pretty tough on myself. But, then, look at the title. 😏 Still processing. 

I am prone to

Processing for days.

I look at things from every single 

Possible angle.

Except maybe the most positive one.

That one I simply cannot sink back on

Or believe to ever really be true.

Welcoming arms so often seem to

Wield a knife behind my back

Or faces melting with all sorts of pity

Over my shoulder.

An inclusion is obligatory,

Rarely genuine.

I know it sounds ugly, 

Untrusting, 

Unkind…

Perhaps even a bit contrary to the

Compassion I have brimming hopefully

Inside…

But, it is like where I think others

Deserve such as love,

There is no way to ever expect the 

Same to be extended to me…

Oh, I know self-loathing is unproductive,

Rooted deep in the unwieldy past, 

But, oh, there are times

It is tough yet not to listen to the negativity

And fling aside that messed-up mass…

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