I'm valuable
when I got something to offer up.
I get nervous when they make you choose,
I lose,
I'm grabbing runners up.
Bottoms up, that's growing up.
If passion had a temperature,
I'm cold and I'm not burning up.
Sitting, fretting, letting, upsetting
Sweating until you ask "What's up?"
With most of what you say, I say
You are attempting to just clean it up.
I'm locking up,
emotionally stocking up.
I'm exhausted and thinking of letting up.
These conversations rarely had.
You'll read this with no follow up.
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