Truth Is Poem by The Writer Way

I'm tryna define myself but feel I lack the means to do it
I'm coasting between my selves, my "trouble" one and the improvement
Steady treading shallow deeps in attempts to balance, the truth is
My communication's great, yet, when it comes to you it's useless...
The truth is that when we talk it's almost like I'm hearing music
The truth is I wish we'd walk and discover our path's congruent
The truth is I'm cool as night during winter time in a pool
But see what you could bring to the table... then I turn into a pool stick... (facepalm)
Perhaps, I've just been stuck pondering if I learned my lesson
And, if so, then why the heck am I so afraid of a blessing?
I know this back and forth leaves us both with more fuel for stressing
But if I'm not past my past can I really be here.. just... present?
If I've not accessed myself how can I give you an assessment?
There's some things that I've BEEN learned, that's Still taking some time to set in
Just know... theres no pressure... I'm just clearing the air I breathe with
Yet, you hardly ever view these so you might not even see this