the reason is that, and all this time, and doubt and scaredful

is that
is that

i don't have twenty-five good poems.

i haven't written in a long time.

and

i'm not sure i even have one good poem.

it makes me sad,
and also makes me miss
julie

(and i disappoint
beautiful people
who are always kinder to me and overlook my
scatter
always kinder
than they ought to be)