please,
do not compliment me
or speak in tongues of hope
because I am not worthy of such reassuring things

I am constantly reminded by every other
that I need to work
for worth
and I haven't even
punched in
on the clock
with you yet

so instead of letting me relax
and ease in gracefully
put me to work like a slave
because that is all I know
and anything else
must be fictitious

She was the unfinished puzzle
She was the guitar with broken strings
She was the meadow stripped of green
She was the crooked table of support
She was the inner voice of reason

She was the dream forgotten leaving a shadow of frustration
She was the rush of a fresh storm promising heavy rain
She was the ever-changing bricks in a decaying building
She was the wrecking ball extinguishing it from existence

She was the heaven-sent false prophet
She was the flower ripped from its stem
She was the blank pages of a neglected book
She was the dust covering all abandoned objects
She was the frustration in desire

She was the locked door
She was the vacant room
She was the thought with no voice
She was not love