Fidget

Fidget

Oh Bridget

How I sit here and fidget

Counting the digits

With feelings

Only appealing

What is his being

He wants to be with you

But he is insecure

And unsure

If everything shown can be true

He needs a light

To be rid of the fright

To accept himself

Stow the past on a shelf

For more secrets

Taught and told

New and old

I begin to scold

And start to fidget

Begin counting the digits

Of my every Bridget

With a new beginning comes a new poem. A new realization of self. I understand why I am unable to sustain a relationship with a girl... And I know saying this is very unattractive to all women, but at least it gives me a foundation on where to begin...

I'm insecure about myself. I'm still trying to live up to expectations, anticipations, and understandings of others. I am not free. I havent been thinking on my own accord. I have been following trends and behaviours that I want to be because I see how happy other people are, and I want their happiness.

Perhaps Im depressed, maybe I cant grasp my own happiness because I dont know what my happiness is.

And so I've decided to keep an open mind. Form my identity, and really figure out what I like, who I like, and why I like whatever "it" may be.

Have a Good One