We are nearly there
A phase of red
White and I think
I wore a short dress
Saying the word Zak or Zac
It is now to a new friend
Like I didn't come here
Only to have my arm twisted
My eyes held up
Like a razor blade
To all I hoped
But realized
That didn't belong to me
That night
I saw him through the mirror
Like a thorned birdcage
Simplifying and begging things
To go his way
My way
And then just like an invisible thistle
I traipse around town so seldom
Not due to a lack of ambition
But from a fatigue
Of knowing, losing, and regaining.

I stir the ***.
I wish I collected compliments
I seldom truly get
Like the trophies and plaques that once
But still
Covered my room like a cacoon
Not because I deserve them
But because I will be good
And be the very best
I can be
At anything I decide interests me.