I was 19
In a red dress
I didn't ask you to tear it all down
But you provided
You were angry
I kinda liked that
You said you led all my stories about
Powerful women
Paint me in yellow and grey shades of the colors you hate
Outline the shapes cuz you decided
That you liked it better when we only talked about movies
From the 90s
Tell me that's it's such a shame
That I could not continue hide it
Cuz you never got to know anything more
Than the parts i reviled
When the phone rings
I'll pick up
And ill let you destroy me
All over
Cuz i've been broken
Yeah i've been scarred
But i'm still hoping something better
Comes along
Now I'm 20
In Joanne's class
She said you wrote all about me and you
For your final
Well that don't phase me
I'm not bothered. cuz id do the same but
I'd pull off the colors and shapes
Even better
Lay them all out on the page, bare as the day that I confided
That I love you more than the world can contain inside
Its weary eyelids
But what kind of life is a sailing ship fixed on the shoreline?
And what kind of love is mooring rope left there untied?
What kind of person writes mountains of prose
For the woman that left her behind?
If you call me
I'll decline
But i'm on your side