| Wishing In my pool of wanting, I wonder how I seem to show a single sign of caring for another. I wonder how anyone can see me as independent when I seem to dwell on everything they say, everything they do. Wishes for cues about me from them are hopeless, because they won't. They won't tell me what they see, not truthfully, not at all. I wish for too much from others. I wish for them to know everything, or nothing, without any insight from me-- impossible, I know. Sighs all around at my silly nature, laughs passed from mouth to mouth as you see me blush with my insecurities. Everyone has them . . . so? Isn't it possible that mine are worse? Or am I really as happy as I show? Why do I analyze this, when I know it will do nothing, just as everything will do nothing. Thoughts of this wish, thoughts of this desire for that one person to come along, bestow a hug, bestow a new mind, bestow trust in me. |
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