I wish I could have been there
To shield you from that pain,
The truth, too heavy to explain,
I won’t claim to understand, nor try to.

If I had a Time Machine,
I could have softened the blow,
So you wouldn’t have to face the unknown.
But we’re both only nineteen,
And the world would ask, what do you know?

Had I known the shadows would come,
I’d have found a way to make you stay,
So you wouldn’t be tossed like chewing gum.
But what can I say?
The things we know tomorrow,
We wish we knew today

If love’s just a game,
Who makes the rules?
Are we kings and queens,
Or are we jokers and fools?

I could lose over and over again,
Be made a mockery until the end,
And I’d still choose to shuffle the deck,
Rather than never be a player, a heart left unchecked.

This way of thinking might seem strange,
I once was a *****, a tool beneath your shoe,
But your love came and made me feel new,
Now I feel like an ace, a prize to arrange.

If you’re like me, who’s been frozen,
You’ll melt at the right one chosen.
His love could never be too much,
I find rapture in the slightest touch.

If love’s just a game, I’ll play it bold,
Giving warmth with no trace of cold.
Even if this gamble tears me apart,
There’s something divine in giving my heart

The room is thick like poured molasses
Broken only by lights and camera flashes
The reason for my birth is suddenly clear
The newest idol has arrived, a crowd draws near
When I enter a room, everyone stops to stare
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes
I was born to transfix the masses

When I sit alone,
Someone will ask, “Can I use this chair?”
Then carry it to another table
To laugh with friends over there—
Leaving me, still and silent,
Closed off like a clam.

Here I am in the jungle,
Eating blueberries and plant seeds,
But then the ground starts to rumble—
The sound of a hundred soldiers charging for me.

They come at me from all sides,
A hundred foreign objects storming my land.
A primal fear stirs inside,
But I cannot run; I must make my stand.

I roar like a strike of purple thunder—
The men don’t stop, unbothered by anything.
Did I make a mistake, a blunder?
I feel like a misunderstood king.

The men have stricken me down,
They cheer, reveling in the battle being won
I know in the eyes of my troop, I’ve lost my crown,
But it speaks volumes— a hundred needed to defeat one.

Ingredients:

½ stick of thin skin (softened)
1 cup of birthdays that never went right
1½ cups of “I’m fine”
2 cups of a cracked voice
1¾ cups of people forgetting your name
½ cup of being avoided
1 teaspoon of false hope
Instructions:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). This is the perfect temperature to overwhelm your ingredients—and then blame them when they don’t turn out right.
2. In a large bowl, mix the softened thin skin with the birthdays that never went right. This will release the tears.
3. Crack the 2 cups of voice until it’s silent. Add the teaspoon of false hope. This gives the mixture a bitter edge of intimidation.

4. Combine the forgetfulness and avoidance. Stir them into the tears.

5.  Pour in the 1½ cups of “I’m fine.” Mix until everything looks normal on the surface.

6. Pour into a greased pan. Bake until numb.

Serving:
This recipe serves one.
Best served cold.
Not recommended for children—
unless you don’t want them to have a good childhood.