Sorry, no results.
Please try another keyword
- 🔥 I have nothing left to prove
- Take Only What Resonates
- Leave the Rest Behind
There’s a scarecrow in our marriage,
She doesn’t even breathe.
You dress her up in my old clothes,
Too small, with tattered sleeves.
You stuff her full of sharp rejections
I never even say.
You paint my face across her mask
And make her take the blame.
I’ve got costumes in the closet,
Boots beside the bed.
You’re mourning all the fun she kills—
I’m wondering what I said.
Straw woman,
Wearing my face.
You give her all your lines,
Then put her in my place.
Get angry at her silence,
Then pout and wonder why.
I’m flesh and blood and fire—
There’s a woman here alive,
With the mischief in her eyes.
You sew her mouth into a frown,
Make her hard to please.
Hang your unspoken wishes
Where her heart should be.
Every invitation
That never leaves your head
Becomes another little stitch,
Another no you think I said.
You moon about rejection,
I feel rage beneath my skin.
How the fuck am I the locked door
When I’m here, inviting you in?
Straw woman,
Wearing my face.
You give her all your lines,
Then put her in my place.
Get angry at her silence,
Then pout and wonder why.
I’m flesh and blood and fire—
There’s a woman here alive,
With the mischief in her eyes.
My pulse beats in my fingers.
My fury warms my chest.
And I, the living woman,
Somehow fail your silent test.
I will not spend evenings
Teaching straw to breathe.
I loosen every little thread
That ties that thing to me.
She wears the frown you sew.
She plays the scene.
I feel my own blood moving.
I know what lives in me.
There’s a shiver in the autumn,
There’s a rhythm in my hips.
I pull on my favourite boots,
Feel a smile curve my lips.
I laugh into the mirror,
Feel my belly answer back.
There’s a hunger in this woman
That your scarecrow doesn’t have.
Straw woman,
I reclaim my face.
I’ve got fire beneath my ribcage,
I’ve got evenings left to taste.
My yes is mine to offer.
My no is mine to say.
I feel the music in the air
I take my fire out to play.
Straw woman,
Standing in my place.
At last I see you there—
Now the story has a face.
You keep the part you write for me.
I leave it where it lies.
I’m flesh and blood and fire,
With the mischief in my eyes.
Straw spills out; you prop her up.
I say put her on the pyre.
I have nothing left to prove.
I’m flesh. I’m blood. I’m fire.