To the best... No inferences necessary. Really.

Actual poetry work in progress...

Sign posts don't let you know
how much you've let yourself go
Swinging into a new lusty deep
emerging from a cocoon of sleep.

Dreams are meant to be the thing
that keeps you glued in focused reality
But they only make me itchy for
glass baubles held beyond my reach

I'm sorry I didn't make things clear
It's a weakness I don't like to admit


A Work in Progress

I let myself slide into an unfamiliar need.
A poor reconstruction of the former less broken me.
Verbal warnings were impossible to speak
of damaged emotions so out of my reach

I'm sorry I didn't make things clear
It's a weakness I don't like to admit
I didn't even understand the fear
That made me crawl into this.

Soft attention was a gentle silencing word
against the background of pain I'd heard
I don't resent the gift you'd offered
But I don't know how I should have responded

It's from that I keep pulling and pulling
becoming so much more of what I used to be
Unrecognizable to the version you know
headed down a road I've taken before

I'm sorry I didn't know myself
and all of the things I'd eventually need/want
It's just that I couldn't even tell
who I was and how I'd be/?

Sign posts never let me know
How far I'd have to let myself go
Swinging into a new lusty deep
emerging from a cocoon of sleep

I'm sorry I didn't make things clear
It's a weakness I don't like to admit
I've left this behind while moving near
A future absent of painful relationships