I worry sometimes

They’ll figure out
what I’m doing — or,
worse yet,
that they already have,
and now I’m a ticking time bomb
of my own making,

painstakingly created,
impossible to defuse.

What happens
when I

Everything I have ever loved
will crumble unto dust.

do I

No one truly loves me
as I wish to be loved,
with a painful sort of aching
that cannot be helped,
seen in every gesture,
beheld gently,
and accepted without judgment —
in fact,
I am only tolerated.
I am resented.

do I

have I


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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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