August 4, 2016
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I am not, nor will I ever be


It does not exsist in my vocabulary

Nor in my dictionary.

I don't even think about it.

I can't be spontaneous,

Because I plan and list everything.

I make lists of my lists.

I cannot be spontaneous.

Being spontaneous,

Doesn't provide



It provides change and difference,

And I don't handle those two well.

I lie awake at night, unable to turn off the

Turbine engine of my thoughts,

Thoughts that propel themselves in circles

Dragging me deeper into the depth of insecurity.

I cannot stop.

I think and plan and analyze,

Every situation,

And when I go to sleep

I press repeat.

And I watch myself commit mistake after mistake.

I am not spontaneous.

Nor will I ever be.

Because if I was,

Then I would be able to say how I feel.

And I would have been able to tell him

How much he actually meant to me.

But that wasn't part of the plan I made.

He wasn't part of the plan.

And now he has left me without one.

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