The Superficial

You're the best,they say.
And they love me!

You’re beautiful,they say.
And they want me!

My heels are broken.
My knees are bruised.

My eyes are open.
My lips are glued.

There's no icing on the cake now.
I’ve run out of that sweet stuff.

And my grandma just died.
So I can’t come out to play.

You’ve changed,they say.
They realize I'm human too.

I see the superficial.
They come and go.

God is real and in his hands,I will be clean.
Free of the superficial,free of the dirt.


(Please wash away everything that hurts.)

I can't stand you.

I confess that sometimes I can’t stand you.

Your lack of tact pisses me off as does your temper. But I also confess that I adore you so much I’ve memorized your every little mannerism without even trying and the location of the lines on your forehead when you raise your eyebrows.

You weren’t a test I had to study for or a game I had to concentrate for. The easiest thing that’s ever happened to me was falling in love with you. It was almost too easy that it scared me. My heart was taken on this wild trip without my permission.

I know how you eat.

You’ll pause with a fork in your hand so eloquently while I will continue shovelling my food into my mouth. Your water has to be cold. Your meat, very well done almost burnt (good news for a bad cook). Your tacos, crunchy.

I can close my eyes and know your scent. I can’t describe it but I know it. That reminds me, I need to ask you for a shirt you’ve worn a 100 times. I want to smell you when you’re not here like a new friend's house you visit that smells of dog.You don't even need to ask if they have a dog. Is that creepy? I don’t even care. I want your shirt.

I can spot the moments before your smile forms. And I feel excited to know I was the cause. Maybe I drive you crazy sometimes too but I do want to make you happy ultimately, I swear.

I recognize the early quivers in your voice when you’re about to cry. And if I’m the reason, it kills me more than you realize. You could probably get away with a lot more if you cried but I won’t tell you that.

I can predict what you’re going to say in an argument. So sometimes I purposely won’t answer your question because I know the point you’re going to make. And I don’t want you to win because I admit: sometimes you’re right.

I remember exactly how warm you r hands feel. Exactly. And I remember exactly how warm they make me feel inside. Exactly. If I don’t grab your hand, it means I’m waiting for you to grab mine.

I know when you’re trying to make it up to me when you’ve been an ass but I think it’s cute anyway and let you do your thing especially if it involves chocolate.

I know there are some songs you don’t listen to when I’m around because you get embarrassed. It just draws attention to it when you change the song. And it just makes me point it out so quit it. I love that Beach Boys song.

I know when you’re with a friend while you’re speaking to me on the phone because you’ve dropped my pet names and deepened your voice. It’s okay though. It’s kind of adorable that you’re so sappy with me you have to cut back on it as not to appear to be a wussy of some sort.

I know that you’ll try to make me jealous sometimes to tease me. I’ll know it and I’ll still walk into your trap because I’m a bratty child who won’t share her teddy bear with anyone.

I know when you want to tell me some good news, it’s usually about a car or a new MAC gadget or a new donut deal or a car or a car or a car.

And when I go a day without talking to you, I think about how I’ve gone a day without talking to you.

Sometimes I can't stand you but I love you. I love you that I will have my bouts of "standing you" for the rest of my life.