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.
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,
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.