Why do I get left behind?
I sit here patiently waiting for my turn
For someone to come to me, wanting to be mine
Wanting to see what I have to offer.
Because if only people cared,
They would see it on my face
That all I want to do, all I crave
Is it take care of someone.
But I want to take care of someone who wants to do the same for me,
Because god knows I give and give
But people take and take
Until I have nothing left to give.
So I go back to sitting
Waiting patiently for my turn
For my time.

I find myself drifting away more recently
Into a place in my mind where no one goes
No one knows it exists
Because it’s somewhere only I know
Where the grass is always greener
And the sun shines year round
Filled with chilly late fall evenings
And listening to the birds sing while in a porch swing
It feels like home
Because where I’m at is not home
The stress
The sadness
The burn out
That’s not where I want to be.
So I drift away

She was not the first pick for dodgeball,
Or football,
Or soccer,
Or tennis,
Nor was she the fastest,
Or strongest,
Or prettiest,
Or fittest,
But she was the nicest,
Most loyal,
Most kind and true,
But at the end of the day,
That never mattered to you.
You wanted the most perfect,
And prettiest,
And fittest,
And fakest,
… Which wasn’t her. So why’d you do it? Was it a bet?
A dare?
A scam?
Or a lie?
Because now in hindsight,
You are that type of guy,
To go after the nicest,
Most loyal,
Most kind and true,
To leave her broken, hopelessly devoted to you.
And once she’s rebuilt you’ll come back around,
Just to once again, try and knock her down.
And you knew she’s the nicest,
Most loyal,
Most kind and true,
So you knew that she’d come back to you.
And she does, because she is the nicest,
Most loyal,
Most kind and true,
And again, she’s left chasing the memory of you.
So again, she rebuilds, and throws out the
Terrible,
Horrible,
Manipulative, memory of you.
And she won’t let you come back.
Not because she isn’t the nicest,
Most loyal,
Most kind and true,
But because now she is the smartest,
Most loyal,
Most kind and true,
Which at the end of the day, never mattered to you.
So chase your Barbies,
Be happy,
Find a love that’s true,
Because in time, the same thing will happen to you.

Squiggled lines on a page where school work should be,
But her mind can’t rest whilst she’s writing a story,
Multiples stories, actually
Well, at least their endings
Looking at things in every perspective,
Trying to understand who went wrong and where,
Sometimes ending in happy ever after,
Other times ending in angst and despair.