Trapped In The Margins

Patience was never my strong suit.

Its virtue seemed to elude me.

I wanted to escape my fate.

Instead, I ran headfirst into it.

I found you along the way.

Or I should say, you found me.

I still don’t understand why that happened.

Maybe I never will.

I keep writing to prove to myself that this is real.

That he is real.

Because someone so good can’t exist.

But more than that, someone so good can’t love me.

Because I’m more pain than woman.

No capacity for love.

Feels more like an empty promise.

One that I can’t fulfill.