i ostracize my feelings. i’m good at that.
i’m good at never giving myself an option
to explain
i’m good at believing what i feel
isn’t real
i’m good at preoccupying my mind
with a list of chores
& i’m good at never admitting anything

but i am not incapable of love
in fact – i do love
i love the fierceness in someone who is bold enough
to say ‘no’
i love how my little sister’s laughter
lingers for a few moments after a joke has disappeared
and i love the way the trees accent the sky just close to sunset

so, i do love. i do love.

but i’m good at loving things that don’t have the volition
of loving me back
i’m good at loving things unaware of my being and unaware of my existence
i’m good at loving things that are constant & ceaseless & immutable
and because i’m good at loving things
that can never hurt love me back.