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I Taught My Hands To Dance

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I taught my hands how to dance.
Like hip hop on blank paper,
Underneath my painted lashes.
Blinking, black raindrops
On my small world,
Yet I’m still happy.
Even though I know I’ll never be the one
To have your full attention,
I still beg. Silently.
And even though you say
We can only be as we are,
I feel as if you’re on
The northern tip of my smile
Pushing me to the south,
Hanging on for dear life.
Never looking down to see
What you’re leaving.
Only throwing away the treasure
And keeping another man’s trash, well…
I guess whatever is perfect
Won’t have the strength to last, or
Nothing is perfect, so everything lasts.
No, nothing lasts.
But I come in last.
You just don’t see me the way I see you.
But you can’t seem to see past the
Curve of her hips to notice my smile.
And you can’t seem to get over
The way her cherry chap stick
Tastes just like mine,
Yet you like hers better, and
I can’t seem to get over
All of the obstacles you place
Without you even knowing.
And I’m still expected to go through
My day with a broken heart throbbing
Violently in my chest and
Your knife in my back, while
You mouth the words
“The last thing I want to do it hurt you”
Well I guess you do always
Go with the latter because
The death of my smile
Is on your back tonight.
But I said I was happy.
And you still stand tall like a
Caramel colored soldier here to save
The nation from yourself.
You’re fighting wars we both know
You can’t win, yet
You swing and swallow desperately
As if tonight is your last chance
To prove you are the man everyone sees.
Even though you aren’t.
You’re just the boy I fell I love with.
I taught my hands how to dance.
So that thoughts like these
Don’t fill up my cabinets and
Come spilling out of my closets like
Hard to keep secrets.
So that whenever I hear your name
Flash floods don’t rinse away
Ten minutes of careful applying.
On days like this it’s best to go natural.
But who ever knew that
The dark clouds hanging overhead
Could actually reach out and grab you?
Take you hostage and drown you
In a flood of your own emotion
And still expect you to
Know how to use your own two feet?
I think it’s safe to say that
You can count on me being sane
Only when the dam isn’t stopped up
And my hand isn’t paralyzed.
But you do tend to walk in on the
Awkward conversations and
All I can do is smile, then straighten.
I’m embarrassed.
And you give me that shy smile
That could win over the sickest Grinch
And I feel like retching over every time
I cursed you for not loving me enough.
And it isn’t that you don’t
Love me enough… it’s just that…
You don’t love me enough.
In the way a woman needs to be loved
By a man.
This man.
You man.
You know that I love you.
So don’t run to her looking for things
That only I can give you.
Best friends since book bags
With wheels, ‘cubbies’,
And crayons outside the lines
Were still acceptable.
Hopefully someday more.
More than what you’re looking for.
I’m not rushing things,
I just need to get this off my chest.
It’s impossible to know all of what
Is on your heart until you’ve
Taught your hands how to dance.
Fingers learn to curtsy as
Pens dip and spin them slowly
On the empty lines of the dance floor.
And by the end of the song
Your heart is light again
And your smile genuine.
But for now I think I’ll stick
To loving you as I am now.
From a distance, and to the side.
I wouldn’t want my rainy day to affect
Your parade.
Well…yes I would.
Because this emotion is too much
To take on my own.
I taught my hands how to dance.
Like hip hop on blank paper,
Underneath my painted lashes.
Blinking, black raindrops
On my small world,
Yet I’m still happy.
Even though I know
I may not get what I want.
You.
I still have to believe in me.



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