A Truth

She realized
then and there
she was brilliant at
beating dead horses.
How any appearance of
devotion slipping
sent her stubborn nature
to activate into overdrive.
though it was rarely worth it.

With anxiety churning in her stomach
like such a burden,
she would overanalyze every word she would speak
with embarrassment rampant at any slight chance
she had said something wrong.
Yet she would keep speaking.
As though trying to make up for any
miscommunication she had stumbled into.
Talking in circles is what she is best at.

The truth
she overthinks all situations,
preparing for any possible outcome.
She knows she puts too much stock in
every person she meets
only to be desperately disappointed
in every end.