I kissed a frog once
And hoped it’d turn to a prince
But I’m not the princess of olden tales
So it still kept its tail
I wrote a love letter to a frog once
Told him I was sorry, it wasn’t my fault
That I loved him, that’s what I thought
But my frog hopped away
And I cried for a day
Seasons swam by and…
I met another frog
Let me tell you about the frogs I’ve kissed
My mind pours me a cup and I drink it.
It does something to me and suddenly It doesn’t hurt.
These are my drunken thoughts.
I’m on my knees; this is a prayer.
Weeping, crying, begging the skies
Breathing through salted mist
Oh, to be drunk like the stars
To be loved like the moon
Tearing apart every piece of me
One thing I ask;
Exempt me.
Let Corinthians remain a verse
Because it is neither patient nor kind.
It fails. It is self-seeking
If the King’s songs were true
Wouldn’t it be strong as death?
A blazing fire, unyielding?
I’m begging, stars blurred in my eyes
My breaths uneven
Hysteric
Exempt me
That the goddess of love and the god of war would plot against humanity and hand their child both gifts.
T
Dear Venus,
Radiant queen of love’s embrace,
I know I’m about to sound stupid
And I dance on the edge of folly
But it’s about your little boy Cupid
The one the romans call Eros
Arrows tipped in passion’s fire.
Did you encourage him?
Be the wind beneath his wings?
For then you’d be guilty too, culpable beyond doubt
See, your mischievous child shooting arrows to test fate
Tested troubled waters;
Let fly an arrow,
an ode to love’s fervor, passion’s whispered envoy
And now, I’m in a
Moonlit serenade
Except to the music of Cupid’s bowstring
Venus, mother of love, in heavens above,
Your son struck me.
If you read my writing and my mind
You’d think I’ve met love.
You’d think I know it inside and out
That I’d recognize it in darkness blindfolded and hands behind my back.
That I would know it’s scent
And would know what seeks to pass for it.
You’d think I know love.
But love and I have never met.
Love and I don’t yet exist on the same plane
Love hasn’t heard of me
I’m a fangirl
Maybe love’ll sign my hand
Maybe love’ll greet my outstretched arm
Maybe love’ll single me out and hold me on stage.
Maybe love’ll turn to the other side and pass me by
Maybe love’ll make a fool of me
I talk of love like love told me it’s life story
Like I haven’t mistaken a farce for it’s face
Like I know love.
But love and I haven’t really met.
I’m a fangirl
Love’s fangirl.
MUSE OF TRISh 