I sit here.
You want me to come over.
You want to love me.
Be nice to me.
As a way to make amends.
For all the fuck-up-ed-ness.
For all the fundamental ways you failed me.
For all the ways you don't understand me.
Or want to.
I'm going to go over.
And smile.
And pretend.
Cause there is no respect in any of this.
At all.
And - what?
I'm weak?
Let's go ahead and say it.
This is my weakness.
My failure.
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