Who would that thought that we would turn out this way
When you cracked open a beer, which I turned down knowing I had to drive away

And who would have thought
That I would have something to tell you,
I just don't want to ruin our night
Maybe I should just keep my lips sealed for a little longer
As long as yours are locking up mine
We should both be fine.

Meanwhile, outside the night goes ballistic
The shade is covering up your room
We're just as tangled as your hair,
My feelings following along
curling into a hundred different directions
And it's crazy how not being able to look into your eyes,
Everything all of a sudden becomes so easy

And who would have thought
That butterflies would startle me, as soon as yours disappeared
Or that I would finally hate how Gordon's make me feel like I'm drunk on love instead of alcohol.
And who would have thought
That a martini wasn't the only thing, you would stir up.

I never thought it possible to lose something you never had
So now the aftertaste of lemons is lingering in my mouth
And every time I see you
I've visually replaced her face with mine
And every time I see you
I try to fake a smile.

I’m a renaissance woman.
Not in the sense that I’ll birth your children, and keep a perfect clean house
I am a Muse.
I rebirthed and reclaimed my mind and body
Away from the Dark Age of adolescence
So, I can finally feel present in my own skin

I’m a renaissance man in a woman’s body
Not in the sense that I feel trapped in the wrong time, place or body
But that I've become skilled in many fields
I will never stop trying to better myself
I have designed and engineered a par of perfect wings.

I guess you’ve never seen an angel in disguise
But unlike Icarus, my wings can hold me,
So, ******* Leonardo, I’m a better renaissance woman than you were a renaissance man

You are a devil who looks like a human but talks like an angel
I’m a pretty blue-eyed girl for which you are the living proof
You swept me off my feet
But I deserve a guy who encourages me to stand
A guy who will let me lean, instead of knocking me down, telling me it’s an act of love
I did not know love could be other than face value
So, when I got your check, I was surprised it came with ownership
Now I just feel sorry for you
Your mind will always be squarer than your jaw
Your soul darker than your eyelashes
Your resentment will always seep through your bones and manifest as hair on your skin
You can try and shave it down
But it will keep coming back – dark and seemingly multiplying

Yesterday I promised myself never to make the same mistake
Tonight I won’t mind you telling me I’m pretty
Tonight I’ll relish your compliments, be the tangible version of all your fantasies
For one night I’ll accept whatever and whoever comes my way
For one night I’ll ignore the bitterness in your kisses
For one night I’ll ignore myself and my own wishes
By dawn, I’ll hate myself for it
By dawn, I’ll realize that I deserve something real, that I deserve something more
Next week I’ll regret my actions by day, yet relish in them by night
In one year, I’ll realize that I don’t learn and maybe never will

So…. you think I’m pretty?
“Thanks,”
Spin around on my 3 inch heels and walk away
Calling be an ungrateful ***** only affirms me
That your thoughts are as square as your face

Well, I’m sorry,
It’s not me you’re complimenting
You see, I’m not pretty
Not in the cliché “girl-thinks-she’s-ugly-and-doesn’t-wonder-why-every-boy-falls-be­fore-her-feet kind of way
I mean, I’ve heard the phrase enough times, to know others find me attractive
I know that my eyes carry more colors than a rainbow
And I see the hunger in yours
As they glide from mine to my cupids bow, further down my neck
To glance at the curves of my body
The exact same way you stare at an hourglass when you wait for it to run out

I wish my body was an actual hourglass.
That I could turn over to start over.
That my skin was so transparent that you could see the sandcorns in my mind
That my looks didn’t matter
And my curves were only to make sure my kidney doesn’t fall out
Instead of being an object of lust