Willing to let my guard down to figure you out

I don't normally feel Obie Trice like that, but this line from one of his joints did my sentiments justice.

And like my man Buckshot said back in '93:

ahhhhh...don't front.
you know I she got you open.

Women have the uncanny ability to make a brother feel like a straight up punk-a$$ biyatch just about whenever they want. And the shT gets exacerbated when they do it without even trying. It just kinda happens, nahmean? So basically, my heart has been willy-nilly for a few months now. It's not like I'm some hulking tough guy with a comfy chest, super-sensitive in-touch-with-a-woman ESP powers, and a flair for romantic shT. But damn son....smitten ain't even the word.

Plus, I've been penning this epic poem that has yet to see daylight because I'm almost as afraid of real-deal rejection as getting hit by a city bus covered in horse manure. On occasion, I can even retroactively sense when I've done some simple-type ish. I get this WTF look because I've seriously invaded personal space....but I'm sayin yo. My bad. Ten yard penalty flag on me. But anyways.

It ain't lust. It ain't curiosity. It ain't infatuation. Ok well maybe so. But whatever, yo. If there is anything about POPS that never, ever gets publicly released...it's the personal life (in addition to any unmentionable past transgression that are now sealed. ahem). But man...I may need to make a PSA with this one.

I
am
falling,
yo.

So as my ticker pitter-patters 24/7, I'mma go ahead and do what i gotta do. Wipe the slate clean. Learn from my mistakes. Heed the balance of wits between my mind and my heart. And let life push me instead of pushing back. Can you stand the rain?