I'll live in mine, but thank you anyway.

I am tired of having to always worry about doing the "right" thing, of having to wonder what you want from me, whether you will be mad or frustrated or miffed, because of what I do which will never be enough but always requires me to be fine, too rare you know, but do you know me enough to know that I never do the thing that everyone else does just because,
that I'll never succumb to your words; they won't sway me
the measliest bit, unless you flavor them with knowledge, with something like love but calling it love would make you misunderstand; of course you love me, you say, of course of course. And I say, in my parenthetic way,
don't lace your words with disappointment, with judgement, with your thoughts that look and look
anywhere
but me. I say
don't concern yourself with right
I mean
don't concern me with your definitions--your effort that you use in all the right places, you don't know that it isn't what's right that will feel right, but the reverse or that life is never that easy...so you go and live in that bright and shiny world and I'll
wait and I'll wait
to feel.