Where

They tell you to put yourself out there, but I go out and get bruised.

They say be open and honest and when I do I still end up confused. I’m not male centered— I’m the one they never choose.

Maybe I’ve been alone so much that I do all the “donts” instead of “dos”

I love myself so I fixed what I wanted. I hit the gym, I eat the right food. My body changed, I almost died and sometimes I’m just not in the mood.

Every time I think I did right, the awakening is always rude.

My pillow is my best friend bc there’s two sides to cry on; when one gets too wet I just flip it over: The coin toss for my destiny hardly ends in a romantic lover… The kids are leaving me, but I’m still a mother.

So, what door offers safety for me to be my fragile self? I have the key to the world, but apparently I’m always the help.

My heart hurts all the time and I don’t want to try anything else.

I’m doing everything I know how to do, and welp…

Still waiting on the bottle to spin and land somewhere mutual. Maybe talk to someone long enough that doesn’t see me as mutable.

Even though I know I’m enough, it’s always too much or too little.

I don’t think it is anything wrong with me, and I’m perfectly sure I’m not for everybody. They always love the quality, however, it’s never where they want to be permanently.

Where do I fit if God made us to be pairs? How much longer I gotta do this dance of unfair?