Untitled

I trusted you so much
it hurt.
It would have been easier
if you broke that trust,
but instead,
I did.
I don't know why
I thought you'd leave me and make
me walk home alone
wet from the winter rain
falling on the cable car tracks.
I've been hurt in the past
over and over, it's like reruns
that should have stopped
being syndicated a long time ago.
So I feel the hurt prematurely,
even when you made me so happy,
so happy I became scared
of how unnaturally perfect you are.
So I fucked up
and stopped it (You and I).
And you probably don't understand why.
I'm so confusing I confuse myself.
In a logical world I'd explain it to you,
but in a Xav world you'd leave anyway
once you saw my flaws.
How unnaturally perfect you seem.
I hid my insecurities from you,
and probably seemed normal
in your eyes,
but every moment
I tried so hard
to make sure you liked me,
but now I found someone else
who I don't have to make sure
because I know they do like me.
I feel it from their heart.
It's nice to feel loved
when all my life
I never got to experience that.
It's kind of sad,
but my mom never hugged
me growing up.
I never really thought of it
until I was moving away for college
with my bags all packed
about to get into my car.
Good bye home.
It was then my mom hugged me,
and it felt so unnatural.
I felt so defenseless,
and at that moment I realized
This was the first time
I could remember
her hugging me.
Before
I was just unhappy,
but now I know why.
It was a
hurtful longing for love.
Is there a word for that?
If it was a picture, it
would be a small heart
filled to the brim with
black ink.
Love should be pure
and unadulterated,
but my dirty hands tarnish it
and break it into pieces,
which I try to make sense of
like yarrow sticks,
but there's no way I can
figure it out on my own.
I take comfort
knowing I have someone
who understands how I feel,
maybe even more so than I do
myself.
It's hard to get a faithful
perspective looking in.
But I ask myself,
who would want someone with
tarnishing hands?
Who would want someone
as fucked up as me?
It would have to be a person
who makes me stronger.
It would have to be a person
who sees the good in me.