“Only Survivor”

My reflection told me that she’d pray for me,

arms crossed and lips in a pout.

I used to hate her.

Now I just feel worn out,

a sputtering candle,

forgoing oxygen for something else.

I’m drifting now.

This is a strange ocean,

filling up the corners of my mind.

There’s nothing worse than wet insulation.

I tried do-it-yourself,

with a hairdryer and some glue.

But there’s no fixing

this affliction

made of

black feathers,

awash in a mess of blue.

“Here I Go Again”

I’ve been staring at you for so long,

you seem to have lost your legs.

I want you to walk away,

because I’m me and you’re you.

You know yourself too well to end up with someone like me,

who knows nothing.

I don’t know myself.

Or maybe I do.

Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to speak,

when you enter a room.

I torture myself,

it’s just something I do.

Sorry,

I’ve disappointed you.

“Glances at Best”

I saw her the other day.

Her French lips and Italian eyes.

She was just sitting there,

and I was walking by.

So beautiful,

I wanted to see her thorns, her secrets.

But she was so red. 

And I was so hollow.

I saw her again.

Her dark, very German hair and articulate, old English eyes.

She walked right by me.

Secretive and gorgeous,

I wanted to hear her voice, her thoughts.

But she was so other.

And I felt so normal.