How to Love You

Never good at doing things anyone else's way particularly, always needing to come around in my own good time, never sure when to speak up and when to let people just read my mind, never certain if snapping at hurt feelings is okay or just kind of inappropriate. I'm not one to care much when people go, more set on the moment than the missing, but I do feel it when things are breaking, when the sunlight is falling behind tree's calling arms--- I can't feel it when they go, but I always feel it as they are going-- and the footsteps you leave behind, trampling poems I've written for you in the grainy sand, it's not something I need you to ask about but I wish you had noticed, had taken a moment to pray for me as I screamed out for desperate salvation. There I go again, I'm thinking, begging people to read my mind and love me and leave me alone all at the same time.