It had been a long time
Since I seen his face
The demon inside
The climatic mistake

Automatic
The angry response
Behind my eyes I play along
Where am I when I let him drive?
Scared little child hiding inside!

To the surface I’m climbing faster
Now I must answer for my *******!

I miss not missing you
I miss not thinking of you
Go back where you belong,
Anywhere but my thoughts

If life's in motion
It'd be swinging
With my shifting devotion

I'd love to be on
A merry-go-round
Coming back full circle

The merry go-round and swings
All bring gentle minds to the same song

I sit on our recliner,
Luna bar wrapper on the floor.
My robe is cinched
too tight, a reminder--
your fingers should meet
around my waist, but my ****
and *** should spill out of your palms
because defined curves and wiles
are the definition of a divine
woman worthy of insta-fame,
tumblr posts, and right
swipes.

I'll twist and turn and pose
in front of any mirror, desperate
for a flat-planed stomach and fuller
cleavage, the whole time
wondering if you look at me bent
over the bathroom counter, fixing my eyeliner,
and think that I'm a dime disguised
in a size 0 dress.

If my sides could shrink as fast
as my self-esteem, I'd never crunch
my abs into idealistic numbers again.