I wanted to be happy for you,
and I wanted you to notice.
I tricked myself with words like
Sophrosyne and Halcyon
and deemed myself a Lotus:
capable of blossoming beautifully
despite the mud beneath me.
I threw my razors away,
out of sight and out of mind.
I tricked myself into thinking that
maybe it was finally time
to listen to my heart rather than my head
and maybe vulnerability wouldn't have to leave me dead.
But I knew choosing my heart was wrong
when I was enlightened that
she had loved you all along.
Because I am not a flower in comparison
to her cunning eyes or porcelain skin,
and I do not possess her efflorescence
that inspires you to sin.
My thoughts are frightening
and so is loving you
because now that I've opened up and let you in
I've begun to open my skin again.
This time I use needles and knives
because the razors, along with my mind, have departed.
And so will you, when her affection revives.

So I guess I'm back to where I started.