I think I can fix her (Patreon)

I like when she gets moody

And her long lashes lay stable like a setting sable sun.

The way she bows her head

She looks just like someone

Who doesn't need charity but maybe needs some love

And what's the worst I could do but

Be another miss-

Taking what I feel in my heart

From what my friends tell me is true;

I trace the texture of those

"I don't think so's"

And pray to all the

"Might have beens"

"Oh, God, no," I

Think I know how this ends

So damn your wanting love,

It's just enough to wreck me.

And damn my wanting blood,

For making a sanctuary out of "maybe."

I like the way her silence sits

Not empty like a kiss,

But full like a held breath before

I carve a word in it, and how she'll

Peel an orange, slow

And offer me a segment, though

She knows I'll take it as a sign and

Spin a whole-ass valentine

From what's just being barely polite.

And what's the worst I could do but

Stay up half the night,

Connecting constellations from the freckles on her skin

To stories on the pages, till I find where I'll fit in

I read the vows in her delays

And chew the bread of her disdain

A storied fool with fevered hands;

When all I ever say

Damn your wanting love,

It's just enough to wreck me.

And damn my wanting blood,

For making a sanctuary out of "maybe."

(I think I can fix her!)

(I think I can fix her!)

I hate the way I memorize

The chipped paint on her kitchen door

And call it something metaphorical

For how she's bruised before, or will

And how I'll catch a glimpse of rust

Around the edges of her trust

And think, "I have the perfect tools,"

Who's just another architect

Of ruins I know I'll respect

More than some easy, sunny peace.

And what's the worst I could do but lease

My common sense for one more chance she

Would not give me

No matter how I slave, or become

What I think she wants of me,

Or spin her barest courtesy

Into a private prophecy:

That maybe "no" means "possibly,"

And "possibly" means "marry me."

And in the quiet after,

I finally see the art:

It's not the girl I'm loyal to,

But the condition of my heart.

An endless excavation of someone who's not that deep.

The promise I'm addicted to's the one I get to keep.

So fuck your halfway love

It was just enough to wreck me

And fuck my wanting blood, and

My "Sanctuary, Maybe"

Oh goddamn, I loved a girl.

What a shame she was you

If you've ever dated this girl, I'd like to know.

Originally, this poem was about a man, and to me it still is, but all my fans love pussy so I changed it for marketability and because I guess I've dated this girl, too. Though, it's usually a man in my case. And then you're like, I'm only gonna date women for a while, and find out this person is everywhere.

The song, in its current draft, is beautiful, which means I'm being extremely picky about everything.