Bridge
Grow UP.
this is not a candy-covered
novel or shitty love poem flicked
across a classroom. this
is simple: he scratched
your enamel surface, saw
the ugly nothing underneath;
you are not as charming
as you think. he'll pick
some glittering gold trinket and
you'll stay on the shelf. stop
acting like a gem, pretending
you're something (you're out
of your mind, talking to yourself).
this is simple: Give UP.

a/n: old poem i dusted off.