Betrayed By Self

I often find myself cursing my eyes…
I ask them – why can’t they be more like my lips?
Why can’t they weave lies with the same ease?
Why must they be so transparent? Betraying me with every glance…

I often find myself cursing my voice…
I ask – why can’t you be more like my expressions?
Why can’t you be soft, calculated, and reassuring?
Why must you pitch and waver? Exposing my uncertain with your tone…

I often find myself cursing my heart…
I ask it – why can’t it be more like my brain?
Why can’t you use logic to solve your aches?
Why must you beat so incessantly? A metronome to my indecision…

And as I sit here in the wake of our words
I find I am cursing myself… because you never know what you have till it’s gone.

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