you were the spark
a candle lit
from both ends
beautiful yet
so fragile
there was a part
of me that wanted to
reach out to you,
body ablaze
but I took my hand
back and let you
burn alive.

The laughter is quiet, the house feels cold,
I watch from the sidelines, left out, growing old.
They share little secrets, a language, a song,
and I sit in the silence, where I don’t belong.

The days blur together, the nights feel the same,
I search for a spark, but there’s none I can claim.
The distance between us keeps pulling me down,
like I’m sinking in water, too heavy to drown.

I smile when they’re looking, but inside I break,
pretending I’m fine is the mask I must take.
I whisper to shadows, but they never reply,
just me in the corner, too tired to cry.

I was raised as a mother,
Never as the daughter.
A burden they carried,
Never the healer.

I was the giver,
Never the receiver—
And for one single mistake,
I became the villain.

They said the fairest of the goddesses
Was the one to give us love,
The one to fetch the maidens
And bring the boys their girls.
What they meant by fair was beautiful,
Not just or right or equitable,
For it hardly seems fair
That she's a goddess,
Enthroned on a mountain with a mirror in her hand
And we're all of us mere mortals,
Hapless humans,
With our ribcages wide open,
With no bone to shield our vulnerable ventricles
And no sense to tell us to cover our chests.
It's no wonder that this otherworldly seduction
Can ****** us
And string us along
And consume us
Until we forget what life was
Before love caught us.

It seems impossible
That these frail, impermanent bodies
Can hold such ethereal infatuation;
It's too strong,
So it ravages us,
Strips away dignity,
Rips away common sense,
And seizes all control.
Our little human selves
Never stood a chance.

Tell me, Aphrodite,
Does it make you laugh to watch us struggle?
From your lofty vantage point,
Do you giggle when the rational become foolish,
When the thinkers become unfocused,
When the innocent become broken?
Does it please your fair reflection
When those devoted mortals go to ungodly lengths
For this love that you inflict,
Until they have nothing left of themselves,
Until they're worn to the very bones
That couldn't protect their unsuspecting hearts?

Do you revel in the irony,
Aphrodite,
When, exhausted and dejected
And downright tortured,
They still worship you?
When they bow
And sacrifice
In gratitude?
When we miserable mortals
Thank you for these feelings that destroy us,
Because for tiny moments
We felt transcendentally good.

Perhaps she'd had better intentions,
That goddess Aphrodite,
Thought that she was filling our open hearts
With something to give them meaning.
Maybe she thought
We'd left our ribcages open on purpose,
That we'd all simply been waiting for her,
Wondering when she'd reach down her power
And give us a love to cling to.
Or,
It could be that she had it right,
That our chests were left gaping
And our hearts were left empty
So that Aphrodite could look away from her mirror,
Smile from the clouds,
And send us someone to make us whole.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I ride the carousel, round in my mind,
Each figure a name I swore I’d forget
A sardonic grin on the face of time,
Spinning through kisses and cold regret.

He whispered in lust making false vows,
Then vanished into the dark of night.
The shame still stains my silence now,
A bruise that blooms beneath the light.

Another wore dreams like a cheap disguise,
Painted in promises, glossed with gold.
But the facade cracks beneath his lies,
And love runs dry when hearts grow cold.

They repeat like haunted tunes,
Ghosts dressed nice, soaked in sin
A dance beneath a distant moon,
Where every ending dares begin.

Still I continue, I never learn,
Addicted to the aching thrill
To love that sours, to bridges burned,
To wounds that beg to open still.