meelee

Love carries a knife, to score my words.
This jumble sale of words is a plea.
My heart bruised violet, a hairline crack appearing.
What did I do? What did I do?
I played second best, I never suited the blue ribbon strapped firmly to my chest.
I wrapped myself so very tightly around your little finger, I stapled my pulse to you.
Gestures line my head, things I was never able to do.
All I wanted was to staple my love to you.
What did I do? What did I do?
I tried to infiltrate,
I was always denied.
Denied because love, love carries a knife.