day number 365 plus a few
and i still don't understand it

i'm just a tired girl with skinny arms and a drinking problem,
a sad sack, a sorry *******, a poor unfortunate soul

you are electricity in a nutshell, the very face of exultation,
the greatest thing your small town has ever seen.

i look at your face and understand why storms are named after people: you are the prettiest **** hurricane i've had the pleasure of meeting

god felt bad for all the **** that happened so he sent you to me, an angel if i've ever heard of one

you're imperfect in the best possible way,the  iridescence in a soapy puddle, the gold chain on a sinner's neck

maybe my shell-shocked love is why i'm sabotaging my own wretched heart: after it all, i cannot believe you'd love me back

so i'll stab my own back and break my own soul because i'm just me and you're..... you

why would a king look twice at a pauper, much less take her into the folds of his bruised heart and love her as an equal?

i'm still trying to figure it out, so until then, i'll write and second guess and drink and laugh bitterly