Would you even allow yourself to think that you could possibly be one of many mistakes that I have made? You, like many others, are proof that I cannot seem to take a stand on certain areas of my life. Proof that I am quite a broken creature but one who also has hope, because I am not broke. I’m cracked like veins in places and have been glued in place. Some parts of me got lost like chips do when you’re trying to fix your mother’s favorite vase that got smashed in a rough game of Wiffle ball that should have been continued outside. She'll be able to tell, and she will be mad with you that you didn’t have the guts to tell her up front; she will not appreciate your poor way of fixing things.

Now, don’t think for a moment that I blame you. I am quite experienced in blame; being female, it is something I am trained to handle and execute well, although not often graciously. I never did make it easy for you to not be one of my bad habits. Just like no one has to force a beer (a good one, at least) down my throat or a clove in my mouth, no one has to force themselves on me, nor I them, and so this is how it happens. I give away the wrong things, and keep those I should have offered. You go with what hand you are lead, and so you are mis-led in the ante.

If we play it even
I’d be your queen
But someone was cheating
And it wasn’t me
I laid it on the table
You held something back
If love is aces
Give me the jack

So let me go home and heal now, with my soiled pride in a ball at the bottom of my bag. I am trying to not cut you off completely, because that won’t help things. I’m trying to gain my ground again, because it is soil and grass that I need to carpet my world with, where things again can grow.

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