The Web
Location
You ask me to give you the best of me
but, honey, I do not know what that is.
Because inside of me is a jumbled mess
and you do not want any of this.
So, I look you straight in the eyes, tell you it is a waste of time,
and you call me a heartless witch.
From that point on, you avoid, you ignore, until I cannot take it anymore.
Finally, hoping you will accept us, I walk up to your door
with my jumbled web.
Instead, you shake your head no and say that it is too late for us.
And you shut the door right in my face.
So, is this goodbye?!
My web and I walk home, comforted by the starry night,
thinking how everything could have been so right
had things not been so wrong.
Yet, I cannot fault you, because I know you spun your own web a long time ago.
So, if you ever find yourself thinking of me,
think of me as the girl who does not wear her heart on her sleeve
but guards it with an iron fist . . .
You know what? On second thought, just think of me
as the girl who has a lot to do, a lot more to figure out (than you!);
and, now, because of you,
I am no longer living in doubt.