Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt

When I think of my mom I think of malt o meal muffins When I think of my dad Memories of a child Chasing us around the circle

I’ve known Deep inside All along My value That I matter

Pragmatic me Doesn’t like this girl You can’t depend on her Too complex to understand She cries at the worst times

Look in the mirror What is it you see? Hazel eyes above your Favorite black dress Looks clean and fresh

I enjoy his company Riding shotgun Conversation No one to overhear Our inside jokes

I wallow in my sadness As it pools up It has not swallowed me Who floats above its surface This surface

The pine trees Reach up On both sides Of the road Telling me

How can I write how I feel When what I feel is nothing? How can I tell you what I need, What is wrong? When what is wrong

Would I rather be A younger me? More productive Stronger Would i have to give up

How do I Catch your interest? Once again I know You are bored with me