Second Best

Second Best

My spectre intense feelings are a shadow,
haunting the new found connection held between you and her,
colouring in pictures of TV sex with you and her.
Flirting, a pretty grin tears out my primary heart and it is placed in the second drawer down.

Before 'make do' memories and after 'exhausted all avenue' options.
The shelf that contains my main feelings are full of doubt and knowing I will be the last one to be chosen for your team.
The darkness surrounds my crying face as you walk past with an old flame about to fan it.

Its embers scars into the wooden case around my beating heart,
I chisel the words, 'not quite good enough', just under the handle and the lock.
As you dance with all emotions coarsing, electricity between you and her,
my blood stains through trees as I think of you and her.

I lay awake frightened by my own self, the box of no delights is dowsed by the weight of my tears.
How long must I wait for it, is the question that I ask between you and me.
This container I set adrift as I cannot bridge this part apart between you and me.

Do not worry dear, try your best is all I hear, as the teacher, parent, passer-by and old love all scream.
I run slowly and push you away as I accept the silver medal.
There are no firsts or winners between you and me.
Just ghosts of wanting and rejection between you and me.

As I feel my feet slip from this constant space between you and me.
I fall into muddy acceptance of dirty histories between you and me.
Can there really be a future between you and me?