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.

Pathetic or poetic?
Professing love to an open room,
even after the dusk falls.
Love songs; radio play, proving
your love exists in the sound waves.
Wedding vows?
Tear stains on white?
Who knows.
My pathetic is probably someone's poetic.

Red lipstick stained wine glass,
red wine to cushion the blow.
Condensation trickling, words spinning
through the hazy air.
"So what of past loves?"
The air splits in two,
lungs recoil.
I can suddenly see the moths
coming to the porch light.
How easily they're manipulated
into a false sense of warmth.
Flashbacks to red faces, black rimmed eyes.
Nights of loneliness
with someone wrapped around me.
Deep breath, push hair back.
Sip,
swallow.
"What of them?"