Don't let the title fool you,
This isn't about some guy,
Nor is it about "the" guy,
It's not even about a guy.

It's about a gal,
No, not like "that" gal,
Not even a pal gal.

It's about me.
A gal on a mission.

A mission to be, the one and only best me!

I run to push you
3 swift steps forward
Pushing you two steps back.

I then try to hold you
Try to gather your attention
Only to overwhelm you.

I am not intentionally
Trying to hinder
Our mutual future.

I do however feel
My subconscious sabatoges
Any possibility of happiness.

I am humbled
When I visit this nook
For the truth of the writers
That belong in a book.

Sharing a binding with the greats,
As they write off and dismiss,
I see their brighter future awaits.

As I read their works
I am inspired more,
To write the good write,
Let my words explore.

I can only hope to one day be,
A writer part of a greater "we."

Still soft,
Undefined,
Awaiting the hands
Of the creative soul.

Red muddied joy,
With potential
But potential so easily lost.

One wrong halfwitted artist
Deciding to "have a go"
And throws the disaster into the kiln.

Fired.
Done.

No reversing.

Unless...
Some master painter picks up,
Transforming  the waste
To water for the thirsty soul.

Potential refigured.
After all everyone deserves a second Chance.

Dearest Best Friend,
Thank you
For standing by
Through all the years.
As I pushed you away,
But then months later called
To divulge my fears.

You never judged me
Or turned me away,
And you always reminded me
You were there to stay.

Sometimes I didn't deserve you.
Sometimes I acted like a ****,
But I feel you have reminded me
Real love is worth the work.

Now here I am thinking of you,
More than I have of anyone else before.
It makes me wonder after all these years,
Were you the truth in true love's core?

You have failed me
As I stared at the blank page,
Wanting to create something of significance,
But when just a response to something in my day,
Then you have something truly beautiful to say.

At the sunrise,
God's gift to remind us
Of the beauty in a new day.
Or as the rain pours down
Blurring my windshield,
Reflecting my inner sadness
As I feel as isolated as a lost penny,
But at least I'm heads up,
Lucky and looking at the sun.
Wherever he is, hidden somewhere behind these clouds.

Subliminal messaging is what makes my head spin,
The read between the lines conversations.

Sometimes though, they are in foreign languages,
Like guy speak, or flirt speak,
Which apparently I don't speak.

So despite my hair
"like an Amazonian goddess"
Or you dancing me around the kitchen
You remain an inspiration.

Because of course you like me
As a friend, solely a friend.
Actions and other words canceled,
Because you're a flirt.

It's fine because we couldn't work,
We need to work together on too much,
And afterall, you're younger and without futuristic vision.

I need someone who can see
The road ahead,
What we can be,
Someone who thinks like me.