This poem is not about you;
for once something is about me;
let me tell you of the person
you never cared to learn.
There are stretch marks on my hips
from days of adolescence and endless growing;
they spider web across my thighs;
I fell in love with them
years before I even met you.
When I think my mind races
faster than my heart ever did for you;
I can think up a million better words
in the time it takes you to finally say
‘I love you’
with a frown on your face.
I have two teeth not quite
aligned with the rest;
they make my smile unique;
I won’t get braces
like you said to.
My feet rest both angled outward
from the ballet I took
at a young age while the bones were learning;
you say I’m not graceful despite those lessons;
I say: screw you, I’m an angel.
The ocean is my favorite place in the world;
the roaring of the waves always seem
to match the passion in my soul;
I’m glad I don’t have any one, anymore,
to break the crashing sound
with complaints about the sand.
I hate wearing shoes;
my feet were meant to meet the ground
no matter how searing hot or sopping wet;
I won’t apologize again
for the scars on my ankles and toes.
Stories are a passion of mine;
Sitting at the feet of a storyteller
or writing my own for hours
sounds like the perfect day;
to be so absorbed in yourself
that you can’t take the time to listen or watch
is a travesty, my dear.
I really did love you;
despite your flaws I saw
some lovely perfections in you;
you carry yourself like it’s an art,
and you never back down from a fight;
there’s a frigid passion in you
that I cannot help but respect and love.
Maybe this was a little bit about you.