Feb 18, 2010

untitled #57 (Forest Park, you felt like home)

I've always been that girl who takes
the road less traveled ...
and uses trite expressions along the way.
I wish i'd known where this road was going.
You could have warned me,
but i think i knew -
chose to put my green sunglasses and
low-top Converse on anyways.
Didn't lock the door.
All I wanted was to catch your eye,
play in the park, fling some paint
on the white walls, put some color
in our cheeks.
Painkillers for the hole in my chest.
But I chose the wrong road.
Maybe I was hoping too hard,
saying too much with no words.
Maybe I'm still a child who just wants someone
to check the closet for monsters.
Whatever diagnosis is true,
I am just blue eyes, starburst wrappers
littering your bedroom floor.
Not one of the girls,
not one of the boys,
not yours.
I guess chaos and pretty words
do not earn brownie points.

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