I'd trade my smile for perfect teeth.
Who cares if I'm laughing? So long as
They are white like on TV (like what you want to see),
Then maybe now you'll love me.

I'd trade my eyes for pretty girl tears.
Who cares if I'm looking at you? So long as
I'm looking to you to hide from my fears,
Then maybe now you'll love me.

I'd drop the numbers for a perfect number,
Drop the shoulders to lie on your shoulders,
Drop my chin so I can't look at anyone else,  
And other than you, I can't see anyone else.

I'd trade some skin for a little more skinny,
Trade some heart for a little more love,
Trade some human for a little more girly,

I'd trade all of me for a little more you.

1595

Declaiming Waters none may dread—
But Waters that are still
Are so for that most fatal cause
In Nature—they are full—

The only part of my day
That I look forward to
Is when I go to bed
And lay there making up scenarios
In my head.

I think of comebacks
To 8th grade bullies.
I think of witty retorts
To my mother's snide comments.
I think of intelligent things to add
To conversations I had months ago.

I think of all the things
I was too scared to say.

And in my mind
I say them.
And pretend how things would be different
If only I had the courage to speak.

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?

I almost wrote you a love poem
...but I don't love you.

Your crayola stained lies turned my blue skies to gray
so how could I be happy when there's no sunshine today?
No sunshine today turned to no sunshine to this date
so to this day I'm embodied in the darkness that you made.

I almost wrote you a love poem
but instead I wrote a riddle.

I repose homely in dark spaces
because I've adapted to the dark.
I'm engulfed in darkness
But I'm that gleaming light from afar.

Answer is,
I'm a Star.

Consensus:
Your devious dark deeds attempted to deviate
my direction and detach me from the light leaving me in darkness
but I empowered myself,
debunking your detrimental ways
and becoming the light you tried so hard to take from me.

I almost wrote you a love poem
and if I did,
it'd say I love you.
...but this isn't a love poem!
and the only I love yous I recall,
are the lies you told me
and the truths you told him.

I almost wrote you a love poem,
...and if I did,
If I did write you a love poem..
I bet I'd have nailed it!
...but you ******* it all up
and now,
who's really the fool?

I almost  wrote you a love poem,
and if I did,
it  would have went a little something like
...idk

*because loving you is something I never want to do.

Her sole tread this earth when faith became narrow
With the sun disappearing beneath her earthly crest
And perched high up her kin bid her good morrow
Her scent revered across the land when war she laid to rest
This was Pleiades the seven studded sister rooted in love
She who prunes the shrub down to the stem
So light may cleave the soul that fell from above
And such was her beaut the beloved daughter of Shem
Cast into a world fashioned in hate
Eager to condemn and prosecute in cod
How difficult it is to welcome our heavenly fate
How can you experience your self anything less than a God
So when her lips seize to move she awaits your state
Because only your self believes your self to be flawed
Yet things and beings remain as the same
As the tree still rooted whence she sway
As the nightly stars whence she came