Probability.

You've wandered off at
obscure hours,
trying to locate a graveyard
deep enough
for your tight-lipped hurt.
Yet, trials never cause
you to completely leave.
You're still halfway here,
through condescension
and the hope that future
will mean stronger.

A life you could have grabbed,
shrugged out of a stained peach
trench coat
and into the arms of a man.
A man who wouldn't humiliate
to rewrite one's dignity.
A man who wouldn't be concerned
with the unpredictable
if plans turn over,
if your heart drags you down
and you can't pull yourself
out of bed.

Don't be pocket change.
Your life was never statistics
so I'm asking you to
not be tempted
by heads or tails.
Don't flip the coin.
You have so many more,
so many other choices
that aren't resolved by
an idealized state of mind

where fate discloses what
love is fair enough.

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Written 2/28/14 @ 8:40 PM