Shiny Things

Shiny things.

Sparkles and glitter and gold,
Lust so fierce my blood is boiling,
I’m in our island of origin and all I want is an apple,
But we’re all students of Darwin, survival of the fittest,
The first one there gets the sweetest sin;
This was never the land of opportunity.

But it’s okay, I’m only human,
It’s okay, life goes on,
Until it’s over and then it won’t matter,
Seconds shared in the dead of night
Become meaningless under the weight of time,
And I don’t care, or at least I shouldn’t,
I can’t steal her feelings from her,
I don’t know where she keeps them
Or if they even really exist.

But shiny things.

Damned because I want them,
Tell me where I can sell my soul,
But my heart is frugal and soft as ice,
I look before I step and that slows me down ,
She callously waltzes through life,
Stealing heart after heart and burying them,
While I prefer to cradle them softly in my hands,
Savour it like wine instead of chasing it with lemon,
Even if I’m planning it to set it free in the end.

I don’t claim to be the heroine in this story,
I screw things up exactly like she does,
Let them lose themselves in me and call it a gift,
And it’s stupid and vapid and superficial,
But I know who I am, not who I pretend to be,
And I know fleeting doesn’t have to mean empty.

And who knows? Maybe I just hate her,
Because she got to the tree and I’m still running,
We both like shiny things in equal measures,
So maybe I can’t blame her, not in good faith,
But I would have done things differently,
Would have left the present untainted by the future,
I would have actually cared.

But who really cares how the loser plays the game?
© Richela Rosales Maroto 2018

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