When it all came down, when the sky cracked, when my body was broken and offered
I was stripped, strangled, and abandoned.
That feeling can't compare to the severed, frayed strands of me laying limp on the floor.
The poet never gets the girl in the end.
The poet gets cellos, a hooked empty, and an unloaded gun.
Reaching
Aching
Gasping
Starved.
In the dark,
tied to a cage. Not in.
What would it take for you to love me?
What would I give?
Do I run to the kitchen for the shining new shears hoisted desperately over my ear?
What pieces of me would you accept?
As my heart is not enough.
