Morning Melancholy

Maybe if I was less ashamed to ask for things, it would probably work
in my favor, maybe if I didn't say "I'm so sorry I want you", and just
said that I wanted you in a blunt way, you would have admired me more
I don't know when I became an open book, or why this morning tastes like
nostalgia and poetry. but I'm sitting here, losing all these thoughts to this page
she's taking them away, saying "give them to me" she's a needy woman
she demands things and I can't say no. here is where I write because it hurts me deeply
to then on proceed to not hurting anymore. I want a place in someone elses heart,
and I want a little room in someone elses mind, but I don't want to beg for it..
not even sure if I wanna work for it either, because I don't think anyone has ever worked
for love.. I don't take they've made the effort. I think about everyone I think I love, and
everyone I'm fond of, sometimes I love people because their voice sounds pretty
sometimes because they've held me.. or because I sing hideously yet they don't mind it
sometimes its simply because they exist, because they share all this oxygen with me
because they take up space. I love people who don't even talk to me, who don't even care to whisper a simple hello, but the love remains there, it doesn't fade.
so why have I been fighting so hard, I don't want to admit I'm begging for it but somehow I am,
been tearing myself down just to know if I deserve it
I'm sitting here wondering if I should make my thighs tighter, my stomach flat, my hair straight
my thoughts silent, I'm here thinking about how I should talk less, and listen more, and be more giving, more lovable, maybe the way in which I talk bothers people. maybe I shouldn't be poetic,
maybe I should shrink a little. shut up, don't eat, don't drink so much coffee. I'm here
trying to be a better woman, not only because I'm trying to love myself but I'm also
trying to make myself lovable ..trying to be a better friend, I'm working on it.
I am trying, but I can't help but wonder why I insist in trying so hard
when all I've heard about love is that it happens effortlessly.
I don't want to work for love, but I also can't stay in this bed doing nothing
the whole day, it won't fall from the sky. I have to put myself out there.