poemetry

2020-6-2

it is good,
or at least
convenient,
that i live
alone.
how could i
explain
all my quirks,
all the odd
ways
in which
i live
my life
to another
person?
how could they
even endure,
all those goofy
things i do?
all the ways
i do the
things i
do?
what would i
have to
change
to share my
life
with another person?
how much of
me
would be lost?
what would i
sacrifice
to gain that
person
who would be
worth
everything lost
and more?
what in the
blue hell
am i even
talking about?
this, of course,
is the crux of the
problem.

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