- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Looking At Myself
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Not again,
I tell myself,
the tears streaming down my cheeks.
Another round of the lies,
the dreams,
the half-truths,
the evasions that made my life more colorful
and the relationship more exciting,
all now stripped away.
Why do I do this to myself?
Why do I let the false
substitute for the real?
Why do I tell myself stories about how He feels
so that I can feel better about what I'm doing?
I'm looking for the genuine in a case of cheap colored glass;
no wonder I'm not finding a gem.
Will I ever find Someone who will see the real me
and love me for who I am?
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