I had been around too long too wide,
I forgot my own and didn't swallow my pride.
I wanted to learn and learning lead to ambition.
I made a fool of myself and your anger lead to redemption.
I wanted to be a part of this for myself and only me
was too able to make it forgot who I was destined to be.
Then one day I sad "No thank you, I'll be alone with my guitar."
Wrote a song and then I learned you never can let anyone
strip you from who you are.
This might not be the group these people might not be my best
friends.
Though I see how they smile when they see me and sympathy is what
trends.
Remembering how I was the oddball then I chose distance over drama.
I am away and unafraid, we are all swimming in the same water with no
parama.
We are all in the same boat, just not the same tastes and interests.
I may not have fit in, but I hold no grudges nor regrets.
So lower your voice, stand your guard,
accepting isn't always easy,
but forgiveness doesn't have
to be hard.

She waited and waited
with her fingers on the window pane
and face of anxiety meeting its match.
There was nothing there to have fear nor
was there drama powerful enough for all
to come to her and let her rule.

She was all too different
she had the face of a model and the
body of an addict.
That is what the magazine article
said.
She would sprint to catch her people,
she wrestled her schedule to find time
for them.
Begging for others to stay and could
never be strong to let go.

This is who she had,
this is what they wanted,
she had no choice but to keep them,
she had to pretend all along.

She stared out the window pane
she got frustrated as she stormed
to the table with coffee pouring and
tea from the kettle.
She poured herself a cup,
and as the drink burned her mouth,
she remembered the pain that felt too
relevant as nobody was there.

They were not who she had,
she lied for so long that she was no
fool.
The fire in her throat was the transparence of
voicemails asking when they could come back.
She put all her time and effort into those who did
not care for her, and never took time to nod at the ones
who actually did.

Years passed,
many were renamed and overlooked,
no wrists were grabbed,
no one was getting on their knees.
She let them do their thing and never took
space for granted.

The tea was gone from the mug,
her throat felt better.
Nobody came,
was the perfect time to smash the mug
in order to see where her days of being credulous
were to end in pieces.

She had tea alone and as she
picked up the pieces on the floor,
every shattered glass thrown away
was like letting go of anyone who
abused, assaulted, or
lied.

She just couldn’t be credulous
anymore.
It was time to tell herself the truth and
believe something other than fantasy.
Though no one was at the party,
it was worth telling the truth in the
end.
Something finally felt right.

Still if it hurts,
I’ll skip the puddles
and remember your scolding
voice telling me not to get wet.
Still if there is nowhere,
I will turn on the shower,
strip from what makes me warm,
stand in the pouring water,
and just think.
Did I have a party to go to?
Is this part of being hung over?
Was that liquor for somebody?
What is this feeling in my stomach?
Still if it hurts,
I’ll find a way to find you.
I will walk in the rain so I don’t park
in your driveway.
I’ll bring the ***** and wine.
Do you want glasses too?
What do I wear?
Should I wear heels and my little black
sequin dress?
Or just jeans?
How about both?
How about nothing? Naked is how I feel
when the wrong word slips out and the
night is destroyed.
That ***** was not opened last night.
I sat and waited for my ride, clocks just
do their job when people never do theirs.
Still if it hurts,
I stare out the window and have the cork opener
waiting at the top of the counter.
The time will come as soon as my
horrible language goes away.
It won’t.
Still if it hurts,
I’m done with you guys.
I can get drunk on my own and wear my dress
whenever, wherever, forever.