Evans enigma

Im not sure what more equates to. Experiences, happiness, relationships, wealth, i dont really know what more to anything means.

I think im stuck

Or maybe afraid

I lie awake and wonder what life could be like if a cared a little more. Patient. Perusing. Cared about. I think my sense of insecurity in every relationship comes from the closest people to me, no matter what it is what i care about, what im going through it doesn’t matter. The conversation side tracks and no one brings it up again. Forgotten. I dont think my cares and interest or feelings truly matter to anyone in this world. I think i should just shut up. Looking back its muddy and grey no solid explanation. Im in my head so often they know me by name. I think the only one who understands me is my self yet that one’s still off by a long shot. When i say i hate myself its bot some lame bully antic of a stutter or self deprecating nuance its the genuine ache to split from my own skin, prying myself from my backbone. Talking to myself like im my best therapist and the only medication is sin.

Letter to self i miss the real you, the skin i felt at an age dealt too soon, how time may ruin you.

It wasn’t a talking stage just strange. Im not big on introduction just on interruption in some functions . Im caught selling secrets like a secondary job, please don’t ignore me just cause i locked the doorknob.

I think if i ever met you face to face we’d fall in love for real not a tension filled escape.

Im sorry i pictured you better, a mistake on my end but we were never friends. Not to you. Maybe not to me either, but i would’ve liked to have a fall back plan instead of this scam.

Just another no longer lover

Im not gonna wait for you to miss my love. I may no longer be enough. And though nervous to linger ill force myself to waver before I finally leave.