On my own

I guess I write with a particular voice.  I've grown into a rhythm that I don't necessarily know if I'm comfortable with or if it's simply my inner voice getting comfortable with the rest of me.  But then again, every few months, my rhythm changes, my love gets overpowered by own narcissistic denial and my voice grows with bass or softens to the whisper of women in the morning.


That being said, this won't sound like me to you, but to me, I don't remember sounding like anything else.  Let me talk my sh.t. 


Some girls dream of marriage when they're younger
Can't say that I did
Can't dream of something that didn't exist in my life
Closest thing I understood of a relationship was Mary and Joseph
And even then he was taking care of someone else's kid
Much like my own mother
I felt like she was borrowing me
I was always drawn to a higher purpose
It was never enough to be my mother's daughter
Never enough to be my father's pride and joy
I glanced into the future anticipating the day, where I could be in arms I chose
Desperate to make love that I felt I was denied
Yearning to understand love on my own terms
Outside of my own flesh and blood
I was dying to know what it felt like to live
And I scrambled from underneath my mother's palms as soon as my hormones started raging
Using my smile and my wit to confuse men into loving me
Sex was never my power, it wasn't even my hobby
Love was my sport
Leaving trails of broken hearts to test my own confidence
To test my own ability to understand something I thought I was missing
Girls will say that I have so many options never understanding that the only time you need options is when your situation isn't perfect for you
Yet and still, I scroll through those options, learning men like I had learned the Bible
By already knowing the outcome
Death is inevitable
Sin is promising
And even a mother's love won't save you
But as of late
I've been craving the mouth of a man, the smell of a man, the shadow of a superhero
I almost want to make love in the sands of the desert
Turning into dust just to blow in another direction
And I want to roll over, intertwined in legs that aren't mine, being touched with unfamiliar hands
I want another body to occupy
And since I've never had a love that lasted forever
Just give me a few years
A few Christmas,' a few Thanksgivings, a few Easters so I could understand a childhood with memories
So I can know what the big deal was about and why Santa never brought me a peace of mind
Lord knows, the most expensive gifts are the ones that don't fit under a tree
Especially if all you want to do is hang yourself from it
I just want to know what love is like
The reciprocated, unconditional, love me from the bottom of my narrow feet to the strands of my dirty hair
I want to know
And I don't want to read about it
I don't want hear about it
I want to feel it gripping at my hair, clasping my thighs, bruising my ego and choking the very arrogance out of me
I want to be a burning building that someone runs into just to save me only to realize that in love, it is till death to us part
Come, lay in this smoke with me.