unworthy

Why is it
I so very readily
doubt the good things

but never seem to
question
the bad?

I know one day you will leave me.
I know one day you will grow tired.
I know someday I’ll stop hearing from you.
I will not be surprised if you do not like me
for who I am,
or if you only ever really wanted
a way into
my bed.

But you take your time.
No pressure.
No rush.
All respect and kindness–

No sign or signal
to even hint
that you are just waiting
to hurt me in the end.

My mind just never seems to tire
of trying to convince me
of just how unworthy I am.

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