the conflicted self.

spending evenings in the cold,
preparing to survive what could be
my last winter, or first alone.

i still don't know, so stop picking
my brain; i wish i could decide,
that's always been my downfall.

i keep saying the same phrases,
my mind reprimanding me for
never committing to change.

too scared to continue, too scared
to go backwards; we know, we know,
the boy who cries wolf again.

can't let myself be stable for too long
because eventually it won't be safe,
no one and nothing can guarantee it.

so i close off the chance for better,
i try on the outside, masking to blend in
while planning all the ways it could end.