"Not really knowing" By Ben Goode 2017 (c)

I feel like I'm still in the rain waiting.

A storm of emotional turmoil surrounding me.

Uncomfortable.

Maybe abandonment.

Forgotten.

Even I question my identity. Who am I really?

But just someone who other's know only a part of.

And what I don't think other's will understand, with my secrets.

Who would really want to know anyway?

Am I not strange enough already?

I don't want to be.

But it's always been inevitable.

People distancing themselves with caution, that maybe is justified through their intuition.

Maybe they know more than I do. Not even close. I don't feel that connection.

And they forget it matters. Perhaps too much was said. And some things are not forgiven in sentences.

Words of inaction. But enough to speak louder.

Have I ever forgiven myself? I wonder.

Taking on tasks, far greater than my ability.

Maybe it doesn't matter. And it probably never has.

Not a challenge, but a battle of my own will.

Proving nothing to anyone.

Never really knowing, what the point is?