If I used my words well, like my dear friend urges;
Then our conversation would have looked different.
If I had been obedient,
To the gentle tugging
On my twisted insides,
Maybe we both could have grown in understanding.
I spoke swiftly with a stammer,
Figited too much,
Rushed through my answers,
Avoiding your eye contact.
The consequences are real.
Sitting here, wishing I’d been bolder;
That my normally brazen nature;
Filled with unfiltered ideas hadn’t fallen short.
Surely I’ll make excuses
Because I can’t stand the guilt,
Or swallow the truth for that matter.
For now the pendulum swings
Between disappointment and hope
Knowing it doesn’t rely on my ability to perform
Wishing it was easier to tell the truth;
The truth about You.