Perhaps comparisons to you, m’ love,
will be of such fluttering birds with their
silken pearl plumage; soft and fragile dove.
I would challenge those who with this compare.

To do so would create such metaphors with
something mild and predictable, delicate.
You are not breakable or dainty, keen scythe.
You are a graceful storm to not abate.

Mayhap I could liken you to a blade,
a dagger wrapped within smooth satin.
To a deathly flower; lethal nightshade.
For to a white swan you are akin.

Know that a dove is equal your beauty,
yet you are deadly elegance, truly.

Too many people
Too many faces
Too much attention
In all the wrong places

Too much talking
Not enough quiet
Nothing to stop this
Deafening riot

Daggers in my back
Chains at my feet
Strange friendships
Love *bittersweet

I fell for you the way my head fell into your shoulder that night
Ever so suddenly.
We became one, as if two pieces of a metal heart became welded together
Except my half was blood red, running with passion and love, while yours ran ice cold.
Your words shot bullets, your eyes shot daggers,
Both of which I felt way too hard,
But the lie "I love you" always felt the worst.
And every day for 649 days your lie hurt more and more
As we both reached the finish line to our relationship.
You ran the race far better than I ever could,
Because you always kept yourself in shape,
While I was too fascinated by those lines made into your abdomen and chest,
Ever so perfectly etched,
But not for me.
You were so in shape, they were so defined so you could reach the finish line for her.
I knew you loved your sports
but this was a game I didn't know I would be playing,
while you knew every detail, and play by play.
And I was just another sucker to fall for it, & for your big brown eyes
Those same eyes that swore they would never leave,
Those same eyes that cried when they realized their lies took over my body and sliced their daggers through my wrists leaving never fading scars.

I found a crack in the sidewalk
That I didn't have the urge to step on
And I passed this crack every day
On my 4.40pm walk
For what seemed like a lifetime
And I glared daggers
At the thing that made my skin crawl
And my neck ache
And my fingers twitch by my side
Because cracks in sidewalks
Were meant to be tread upon
Every single one of them
Even partially
Not to break a mother's back
But to cover the imperfections
And to fill the void
That made me uneasy
And to fill it
Even for a millisecond
Before I moved on
As if the sole of my shoe
Could somehow heal the
Sadness that the ground must be feeling
But there was a crack in the side walk
That I didn't have the urge to step on
No matter how many times
I passed within stepping distance
And no matter how many times
It caused me pain
And maybe that was the period of my life
When the obsessive compulsive part of me
Decided to take a break
Because maybe
Maybe some part of me
Saw that the grass that grew
In the messy line that pointed east
Was something more beautiful
And more honest
Than any hidden disfigurement
Could ever be