anthem of the extrovert

anthem of the extrovert 

a poem

written 30 Aug. 2024

the problem is one of two things

it's me

or it's me

i was about to write

it's me

or it's them

but I'm not about to surrender control that easily 

you'd think after 1,000 tries 

I'd have learned my lesson

I also thought that

but despite my securely secured secure attachment

to the face of my eternity 

my one, my only, my Landon

my heart still finds room 

to make messes

so let's repeat the anthem 

that women sing everywhere:

you're not my responsibility 

you're not my responsibility 

you're not my responsibility 

I can't change you by loving you

I can't change you by loving you

my love will never change you

and that's okay

this is just the way things work sometimes

by sometimes I mean 95% of the time

I need my heart to reevaluate its criteria for loving things

and by things I mean people who don't make sense

like you

I want you to make sense so much

I want to understand 

Why am I so drawn to locked doors and lidless boxes and stairless towers?

My need to know is killing me

but not fast enough to free me

If you could please be outright mean a little better

or if I could shut up the resident mutasha2il in my mind that justifies away any negative signs from you

I'd be fine

I can archive your messages

Meaning my messages to you with occasional one-word replies sandwiched in 

but I dig them back up

I decide to give you space from me and to give me space from myself and how much I stupidly care about you

but the space is attached to a spring and it slaps me back harder the further I try to get away

the bottom line is I don't have time

I can't stop

and dealing with anxiety pains caused by hub min taraf wahid from a f r i e n d is not what I need

but it's what I'm doing

and the amount of time I spend doing things I 100% don't need to be doing, like Facebook, is ridiculous as is

but throw a human in the mix

a human I cannot -despite writing out analyses- figure out why I care for so inconveniently much 

and I'm really ruined and really can't let go

I don't want to believe you don't give a diam meter but I can't interpret these signals any other one way

So I put a dirty hand over my eyes (dirty with the crap I literally pick up for you, that I would pick up for you again and again to give voice to what my heart feels but what my mind can't articulate and what my brain doesn't approve of) and pretend the signals are ignorance or social uncouth or literally anything else excusable 

I'm pinning this one on ADHD and cursing my excess of neurotic divergence 

I'm hoping I can move on with my life and equate you with everyone else

I may have to do that by overtly elevating the amount of care I care about other people with

and trying to rub it into your face

cautioning myself to be fully expectant of your lack of reaction or interpretation 

but maybe I can trick myself 

maybe I can change my own heart 

God help me

God help me

God help me

And even though you don't believe in God 

really

at least not really 

(How would I know, considering you never open up to me anyway), 

(is there anything I don't botch? wow)

I hope God helps you, too

Even though you probably won't notice it

but there

God help you too

God help you

God help you

because God knows I tried

and I can't try anymore 

God help me stop trying so hard

If He can't stop me from caring, at least let Him stop me from running my heart into the ground

the impenetrable stone ground

that is your untouchable heart

or that is at least untouchable

to me.

Good grief