David, like David and Goliath, like the statue
was made in 1501 by Michaelangelo.
A fatherless son, born perfect to the world. Full Grown.
But in Italy, they'll tell you that Michaelangelo
never wanted to be a sculpter;
That he was an artist but that his gift was his curse.

Yet he still managed to create this marvelous marble masterpiece.
Gave the world beauty to call it beautiful and behold it for hundreds of years,
because heaven knows he never would.

But sometimes I feel like you see yourself more like Galatea.

But a rose by any other name might smell more sweet than thee,
My fair, dark lady,
Only to be loved by those of your statue.
I mean, stature.

My fair, dark lady,
who chased me from the light in spite of just wanting to help
the charity case.

My fair, dark lady,
I made you to be a hero,
But a villain you became.

How can one love the name of a rose proud enough
To ***** the finger of tender green thumbs?

Still, its handed a clean slate for the sake of soft petals.
Justified by sweet smells and vibrant colours.
Excused.

Just, if only I could forget the thorns,
I'd have spoken "Love" differently.

I wanted to love you like no other sister would,
but couldn't.

I wanted a savior to stay even when things are okay,
wouldn't you?
When the giants weren't around.

Well, who's hero are you now?

Tell me how a statue saves lives,
rather than turning to stone when the sun rises
And I will eagerly believe.

Or don't.

Strike your pose.

Bask in the spotlight.

It's what you wanted.
It's what you got.

Hear them say "Galatea."
Not marble but ivory,
"Eliza."
"Aphrodite."

And believe them.
"Perfection created."

But I'll call you David;
Never abandoned,
forever alone.

Because humans don't need solution or heroes to depend on.
We need friends.

Well, congratulations, beautiful.

Everyone loves you.

Except, the people who should.

Once upon a time,
I was your hero.
I would come to your side,
Sword in hand and defend until I could no longer breath or stand and even then
I’d fight.
I’d wipe your eyes dry and tell you everything was alright.
Once upon a time,
I did my job too well.
I guess I built you up so high, you can see that I’m not so strong, that I can be wrong and so you take me and break me down.
I try to get through to you one day. I ask for you to come and play and remember the days we’d spend together.
But you don’t want to.
You don’t need me anymore.
You have better thoughts to think about and better friends to think thoughts to.
And I’ve become nothing in the eyes of you.
So, I want to climb up to where you think you stand and look you in the eye but you look down at your hands.
So, I keep climbing, higher and higher until I can look down on you. But that’s not fair.
So, instead, I tilt my head back to the sky and shout:
Who are you?!
And start to cry.
But you don’t hear me.
No, you have headphones in your ears, thoughts in the clouds, feet off the ground and a keyboard at your fingertips.
To you, everything’s fine. To you.
To me, I see us falling apart. I see ice slowly encaging your heart. And it hurts me.
But why? Isn’t this what I wanted you to be?
That’s not why I cry. You don’t need me and that’s just fine, but still, I hurt...
Because, once upon a time,
You were my hero.
My rock, my crutches, my voice of reason.
Now your voice just dissolves into noise and I see you as a stranger on the street. One who won’t help me on my feet but knock me down.
I watch you walk away. I sit on the ground, thinking “There’ goes my happy ending”.

You stand tall
On a ledge
Way up high

Staring down at
Glimmering water below.

The scene around you
Is beautiful.

Perfect like a painting

In a museum.

It feels like
There should be silence.
But there isn’t.

Tauntings are ringing
in your ears.

And a slight whimpering is present.

You only vaguely realize
That this noise comes from
You.

Most likely caused by the
Faltering steam
Of tears running
Down your face.

To shut all this out,
You close your eyes
And take a deep breath,

Lifting one of your feet
That had been planted
So firmly where you stand.

And leap.

For a moment,
There is no

Falling. No
Flying. No
Floating.

You are just there.

You decide you will
take a last breath but
Before you get
The chance you
hit the water.

A sting engulfs your
Bent leg while you
slide
into oblivion.

Under the surface,
The sense of nothing
Returns. Only this time it’s

Colder.

And the silence that
Was missing has revealed
Itself. Like it was
Hiding here
All along.

But the ache in your lungs reminds you that
There are places to be.

People to see.

So you kick up, disturbing
The previous perfection.

Your head breaks the
Surface

You are almost surprised
That the embarrassment you had
Been feeling has transformed
Into a source
Of pride
For you.

The presence of this
Only possible because you
Had done something.

One thing.
One very small, yet
Somehow,
Quite large
Thing.

You were finally able
To summon your courage
and

Jump.

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.


- Billy Collins

Mary Jane

Seducer of young men and women.

Shaking hands at ten bucks a pop,
Then pulling them in to an embrace they cannot escape from.

Even if they'd wanted to.

You are the green outsides when
Their insides are blue.

You promise them solution,
relief.
But rarely follow through.

YOU are something I despise.

And I,
am not just some prep.

Some ***-head-hating *****
who knocks it before she's tried.

I tried,

to hang on, that is.

While you pulled them away from me.

I'll never forget the look in her too-red eyes
when she told me I couldn't stay.
That she'd made other plans that day.

That day and every other from then on.

I could smell your perfume tangled in her hair.
When she hugged me good bye.

That's twice now.

Twice now you stole my best friend
With promises of popularity and good humor.

That's twice you ripped out my heart.

Twice too many times.
I've written sobering rhymes against you.

And they were not the first.

I know I can't blame you, completely.

You didn't take their names.
You didn't make them make the choice,
You didn't force their voice to strip me down to tears.

And you didn't tell me to say no, when I had the chance
To dance with you.

But you gave them the option to,
All the while,
Whispering sweet nothings into their ears.

Pulling at their fingertips.

Promising gifts you could not guarantee.

And last night,
I could taste you on his lips.

I could see your shadow forming in his lungs
As he spoke.

So, Mary Jane.
I am begging you.

Please.

Don't.

Don't show him that their is no other lover better than the company of you.

Don't show him the side of you that only
One who'd tried it could know
And let him love it.

I don't think I could take another blow
of your breath in my face,

If,
...when...
With diffident intentions,
He turns away.

Brown eyes scan the crowd.
Wild with fury.
Frantically hopping from face to face.

She is hunting, with an intention to ****.
Your heartbeat spills over her eardrums.
She knows her prey is nearby.

She focusses on you,
And you finally see her, too late.
She is only meters away.

No escaping this time.

People slide past like ghosts.
Not one of them notices you, frozen in fear.

Her hate cannot mask her hurt.

She is an injured creature,
Out for vengence.

Her mouth curves back into a snarl
To reveal the sharpest teeth you've ever seen.

You search desperately,
For a man with an axe,
For someone to protect the castle.

But an imposter's lips can only call for help
Is so many instances

You are caught.
No escaping this time.

She circles, preparing to strike.

Her lips shape one word:
Liar

It's soundwaves wash over you,
Truth knocks you to the ground.
You were only ever house of straw.

Retracting her claws,
She retreats into the sea of oblivous faces.

You're humilty served.

You are left in shreds.

Nobody notices.
Nobody cares.