It’s you,
it’s always been you.
And not in the soulmates type of way.
Quite the opposite actually.
It’s you who is the problem.
When your smile takes away mine.
When you dim a room instead of lighting it up.
When the problem asks what the problem is.
When you turn a good day bad.
Everything you say feels fake.
As if you take a compliment
and pump it full of insult.
Because it sounds beautiful,
but feels off.
Everything you do is wrong.
As if you look at a red button
and a green one.
And decide red looks more welcoming…
EVERY TIME.
It is a frustrating puzzle to interact with you.
You can’t read the room.
You can’t be kind,
because “It’s all jokes”
is what you live by.
You can’t be empathetic.
In fact, you can’t do anything.
You know what?
The problem might not be you…
…
No.
I take that back.
The problem is you.
It always has been you.
It’s not me,
it’s you.
