Perhaps I could be lovely

Standing in the shining, shimmering

Shadow of you

Perhaps you could love me 

For my dull and passive

Point of view

Maybe for you, I could shrink

Writhe and wilt until I’m small

Shed the layers,

The bright white lights, 

The pretty petals 

That made me tall

Perhaps for you I could be

A rose, gardenia, a cherry tree

I could plant, reluctantly

On dried and desolate,

Deserted weeds

For a hopeless promise-

brand new seeds

The seeds of love, 

I’d never see 

Maybe for you I could quiet

My worn warm voice,

My simple sonnets

Hold the beaten, 

battered hand you vested

To scold the earth,

The woman you tested

Perhaps for you my spirit bleeds

The one you crafted,

Caged-carefully 

Picking and plucking 

Those imperfect parts of me

The ones I love, the ones you loathe-

That empty dream,

A painted portrait, 

Of the woman you need

Maybe for you I let it be

That smothered whisper,

Those tired, pleas

That harken cry, 

That says to me

O tortured soul-

Set me free