to no one

i'm too mad. i wasn't always worked up, i was just working on being me. then here you are, herefor the harvest. i was just getting started, being happy to be, being alive to be happy, making eye contact. at the end of the day returning home to collect myself, to read from a book or to call my father or to get to know the brother my brother is growing into. not living with my boyfriend or going and not returning for four days. i'm not a person of habit out of habit, but routine felt warm and satisfying. then you, asking for my time, efforts, love, company,and you know what? it felt so good i didn't mind giving it. getting caught in the joy of your warm dry hands, the way you look reaching for cigarettes on the coffee table. i lose days in you somewhere. i love that you care,but its not what i needed but whats worse it's what i wanted, to make my stomach twist.but the thing is, i'm no good until i can grow, and have room to stretch my limbs to the sun. the snow that blows from skyscrapers is lovely, but it melts, turns brown and stains my socks. i'm not asking you to do my laundry, and i'm not asking you to hide your jealousy. but i hope you won't be upset when i get up to leave. i just had a taste of what it means to be me, really me, i saw myself and i want more. you are better than good to me, but take this as my ride for free. i'm a lost cause if you crowd me with calls on the cloudy freeway back home. don't make sacrifices for me, you wouldn't get jealous if you weren't serious, and i wouldn't get mad if i wasn't wrapped in you. being mad stops tonight, along with feeling guilty for your jealousy.