Frankly,

I've been the number one

I've been the only one

I've been the last one

I've been the extenuating circumstance

I've been dead to you

I've been gullible 

But I won't be the "other one."

She's been the other one, 

The number one,

The one you claim was "useful."

She's been walking with a blanket

Placed carefully over her eyes. 

A blue blanket

That called her "butterfly."

She's been to the same places

And seen the same sights.

She spent months in your bedroom

Fighting cold Chicago nights. 

She's been the dozen roses

That you carried by your side;

Does she know about the four dozen

That you chose to hide?

Darling, please know, 

That I still think of you

But being the other girl

Is something I can't do. 

Virgo

Snakes crept through red rivers 

Entered through the bluest eyes

And swam forever downward 

To meet between her thighs.

Now rivers stop their flowing

And rivers start to dry. 

Now snakes keep creeping through her

Without a chance to fight. 

And so the losing battle

Can never truly ignite;

And the rivers running through her 

Ceased at the snake's first bite. 

She smiled with vacant eyes

And swore she was alright. 

Perfect Mistakes

I'd rather decipher your passion

Than read your perfection.

I want to experience your raw, 

Deep emotion. 

I want to feel what you feel, 

And see your pen scribble out the

Words that didn't quite fit right. 

I want the first draft; 

The one with the stains

And the smudges

And the misspellings. 

I want to hear the words as they're said;

To read the lines that you've bled,

To see the mistakes before they're marked in red. 

So lend me your honest eye, 

And rid yourself of erasers. 

Your first copy contains no lie, 

But perfection holds hidden dangers. 

New Heights

She deserved brokenness 

Like a caged bird 

Deserves a key. 

She took those shards of herself

And with them 

She was set free. 

She soared above 

The life she once loved 

Now able to see clearly. 

She pecked at the shards 

Of her own broken heart 

And built a mosaic tree. 

From that tree 

She found a nest 

To grow into a family. 

Without broken shards 

Of all that she loved

She never could have lived 

So far above. 

Her broken heart 

Was the only key 

That lifted her up  

To all she could be. 

The day she was shattered

She couldn't have known

That she would be better, 

And from it she's grown. 

Now her wings take her

To skies and new flights:

She's the flawed flyer 

Who soars to new heights. 

Reminiscing on Yesterday's Goodbye

I sat on the floor

With tears in my eyes,

Grasping your leg 

As you shook me goodbye. 

You dragged me out to sea, 

And by the time I got back

There was nothing left of me 

But gray skies carried in a lackluster sack. 

Wrapped around your leg I sat, 

Holding onto something real,

But regardless of reality, 

Your foot was the only thing I could steal. 

So you shook and you clamored 

Until I lost my grip, 

And out to sea you threw me,

Upon a sinking ship. 

The Pain of Perfection

If I am the impromptu text at 2:46am, 

He's the perfect reply at exactly 9:30. 

If I cannot any longer bear to wait 

To hear the words that seal our fate,

He cannot help but string me along

Like his words are a breathless, beautiful song. 

The wait entices me to shut him out

To forget the night I'd been dreaming about. 

It tells me that he's not really there, 

Like it was a lie to speak of his care. 

I fear that he places them on various pages 

Analyzing how their angles cause changes 

In the depth and the power 

Of the words that once fell sour

Upon weepy eyes 

Who garnered selfish surprise

Hung from doorknobs at midnight, 

Reading again and again despite

The pain that ensued each stoke of my angry pen. 

Spilling onto paper thoughts I'd never send. 

Fate works in peculiar patterns, 

Filling holes that never seemed to matter 

And fighting demons that were hidden

Beneath sheets and sanity ridden 

By men and by backs of knives

Whose sting reminds her she's 

Already alive. 

Unwanted

I am not the rain on a tin roof, 

I am a blanket that never keeps your feet warm at night. 

I am the uneven barstool at 2 am, 

And the kiss that doesn't quite feel right. 

I am not stuck between a rock and a hard place,

I am dancing with strangers in a sold out show 

I am that corner where nobody goes. 

I am not dancing on the rooftop, 

I am a breakdown in a silent room, 

Where everyone seems to be watching you. 

I am not the beautiful freckled redhead,

I am the mess of tangled madness 

And the chaos emanates from my eyes. 

You can see my madness in your surmise

I can see your fear that strikes you in the drive 

I can feel the want against my thighs 

As the anger builds for each of his failed tries.