I’m not a good person
I’m surprised you don’t see through
Idealize my good intentions but
Do nothing much to prove I
Hide behind my imperfections
Like a bet I want to lose
Close my eyelids
Hide my eyes I talk of
Living life so fully while
I hide myself inside
Drunk at seven in the morning
While I talk of self restraint
Call myself an artist but
I never seem to paint
Write my loneliness in poems
While you wait for me in bed
Always sewing stories while
I’ve clearly lost the thread