I spin webs out of my words

Telling those around me the things I could never tell myself

I am a hypocrite

A whited sepulcher

Swimming through a pool of my own lies

I create palaces, but with one too few rooms

It’s okay

I’ll sleep outside

After all, I have things easy

My words earn me the highest marks

But fulfillment isn’t a category on my otherwise flawless transcript

Good thing

Because my words will never get me there

I have tons of irrational fears

The dumbest is probably getting ALS

I have no family history

And the disease is one of the rarest 

They say people with ALS are captive in their own bodies

First, their words fail them

And then their words fail everyone else

But that’s me already

So maybe this fear isn’t so irrational after all

I wonder how other people describe love

To me, it’s even scarier than the thought of ALS
Because I can’t put words to it at all

They always tell you ‘when you know you know’

But what if you know you know

But you also know its wrong

Maybe love doesn’t deserve all those fanciful words they give it

Or maybe those words come when love is felt 

Not just given