CALL ME BELOVED

Were my memories taken from me, or
did I just give them away?
the same way I let preschool kids
take my toys home, how I’d give anything
to make you stay; please just love me

That kid was alone, you know.
Nobody wants a nonverbal crybaby, just
sorry for themselves, but how hard
to build the right personality to hide behind
when your hands never seem to stop shaking,

nothing fits right, and then goddamn –
all the role models you could copy
have got sharp edges; they resent you
for looking at them too close –
Can’t you just figure this out?

Most folks only tell you when you’re getting it wrong.
It’s hard to believe I could do it right –
has anybody really figured this out?
Was I right to give those moments away?
Could I hold onto them if I wanted?

I’ve stumbled into the wrong personality;
cut down, whittled to a shape nobody wants,
all sharp edges – I never figured it out.
Were there better words to say, anything
to make you stay; please just love me