Shy Come Sunrise

I was that sick sort of smug, slightly panic-stricken, mostly silent. I held gently that secret, that only I knew, which is that you are still you deep down. My secret, it goes against everything I see and am told, every single day. But I know it's true, I know you have the potential, to peel off and step out of your skin, like a full body suit that you crafted yourself, if I didn't hate it so fucking much I'd compliment your talent. Well me, I'd simultaneously do quite the opposite, I would step up, nowhere near the heights of your pedestal, but still so much higher then down in these trenches. I'd smile the way I do when I know someone is watching my lips move, I would tell you all of the things that have happened to me the last three years that I've stored up thinking maybe you'd find them funny or interesting. My soreness would wear off, how lost I am wouldn't matter if I found you, all my flaws would be endearing, or at least understood. I would wake up happy again, feeling stupid for how my arms move around when I can't sleep, lord knows I can't sleep next to nearly anyone. I would tell you that I read your letters, how I missed your handwriting, how if I can ask one single, stupid inquiry it would have been if you ever miss me. Did you conceive that you weren't worth being forgiven? Or did you think I was not worth having to forgive? I know that you do not think about it at all.