Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Ex-girlfriends

Heavy lingering souls of those beautiful women,
who left that man "tainted for life;"
how is your heart more precious than mine?

What have you done differently,
what magic formulae do you have?
That there is a corner still in his wallet, 
that clutches on to a picture of you.

What is this reverence that you people receive,
why are you always better than I?
Love's discrimination I wasn't spared.
All I saw was the dance of dispair.

You were the one worthy of a lifetime,
I, a mere shadow from a drunken night.
You were "effortless," but I an "attempt;"
my MAs, Phds, can't compete with your life lesson.

So even though you broke his heart,
higher he holds you in his eyes.
Between us you will always lie,
an awkward little tupperware full of moonlight.

You are the story,
I the glass of wine on the side.
But in limbo no more I shall live.
So I say, "burn those wicked witches."
"Burn them, they're all alike."

And as I raise my torch up high,
the mirror cracks from side to side.
But you look just like me;
you and I are all the same,
a coin and it's two sides.
Wait, let me look at you again,
let me look at you through my own eyes;
and then let me decide.

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