I am not the the night
i took comfort in another women's
idea of a home.
I will not be defined by the man
who only took what he wanted
and not what would make me
happy.
nor will i be defined by the man
who i let lay hands on me
and forgave home plenty of times
after.
I am the coffee shop i sit in
alone in the middle of the
afternoon to gain my piece
of mind.
I am the sunset i drive into,
alone, on weekday nights.
I'm made of the flowers i pick for
myself and put in a vase.
I'm not what these people think
of me to be.
I am so much more wrapped into
human skin.
And if they don't understand that,
they will never understand you.