Go ahead and take a look
it doesn’t even matter
that my bones are frail and breaking
nor my hands are beat and battered.
I have just a body made of skin,
my beauty — superficial.
We know beauty yields disinterest
and a love that’s prejudicial,
love that’s shallow and erotic
and quixotic and unhealthy
contradicting what we need to
feel emotionally wealthy.
Taken chances I have with my art,
my heart, and body, too.
When you give yourself away
a broken heart is nothing new.
I’d a taste of what I’m craving,
what I want and what I need
but I can’t seem to shift this tide
I am so often mis-perceived,
or am deceived when I believe
a smiling promise not to leave
I cannot understand a guiltless heart
and why through me they cleave
a path into my very soul!
I’m not actually wanted,
I don’t fit into their mold.
I truly hate to be a play thing
and it drives me fucking crazy!
How must I pretend to be?
So I am treated like a lady?
Seems it’s time to take a pause from
looking deeply into others,
see — my fortune should be vast but,
it’s been squandered by my lovers.