בית קברות למחשבות

I have a fear of living

so frightfully wrong,

that whole years of my life are worth less

(but never worthless, of course).

To discover that

since I started dating,

I've been, almost consistently,

giving myself away

to the highest bidder -

that I've been

passed around,

used,

mocked,

taken,

loved,

hurt -

that I've floated through life

agreeable -

Rationalizing out of my fucking mind.

Dissociating.

Because I know what it feels like to be loved.

But I don't remember how to love.