pour your heart out for breakfast.
he loves the way you bleed in the
most fashionable of ways so not to
stain your jacket. but just enough
to get the point across.
(you're eating this up like skittles,
aren't you as i so pervertedly put
someone elses life into verse. too
afraid to use mine because you
wouldn't read it. because i'd sooner
choke than ever be overlooked or
better yet, looked over.)
he's dancing for you now because
he knows how to lie like you prefer
and it's a quicksand-kind-of-love.
nobody move, nobody gets hurt.
(i like the freighttrain-kind-of-love
myself. full speed ahead. no holds
barred. everything you are, the
weight of the train and the explosion
that can occur around every corner.
i prefer to hang on to the edge of
my seat rather than be swept off my
feet but this isn't about me. i do
not exist inside of this.) you are so
dainty, so startling female. he is more
of a man with you than he has ever
been. you make him strong, your
being so weak. the birds even know
how much he's in love with you.
(i am not dainty but i don't need to
be although boys turn into bees around
me, stinging me just to see if i'll bleed.
they usually don't get what they want
because most days, i sting back. and
i don't need to be protected. i just need
to know when and when not to attack
because i've lost so many people this
way. by my not being dainty. none
of this matters here, though. i'm in
the wrong song.) and you and he stand a
chance of making it. as long as you
continue believing you're doing something
right and he continues believing he's
done nothing wrong. (i do not exist
inside of this.)

09/17/2003

Posted on 09/17/2003
Copyright © 2024 Olivia Weinkein