I’m sorry I didn’t want you.

I was afraid that I wouldn’t know how to love you.

    And that I wouldn’t know how to teach you to live

                                    or how to love yourself.

I was scared to give up on myself

                       – to give myself away to you

                   because I don’t know if I was taught to love myself

                                                      in moderation.

And part of me would be angry if you got sick.

How do I help someone else?

              I can barely help myself.

I know that one day I will grow old,

                 as so many have told me I will

                       and I’ll realise that I do want you.

But you’ll belong to someone else,

       and that someone would have wanted you

              when you so desperately needed to be wanted.


I’m afraid to die alone

      afraid that no one will want me

      afraid that I’m not good enough,

          even though I tell myself I am every day.

                      But I’m still afraid

                        because I don’t want someone to want me

                                         when it’s too late.


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