Mine

What I gave up for you, so that my wish might come true–

I would never be alone, though our house was never a home.

Leaving the party early 

because you didn’t wanna hear my story,

Taking the Uber downtown 

so you could ignore the despair of your hometown,

Forgetting it was my birthday, not yours,

And standing in the rain outside our front door.

Was it dancing at clubs, 

Or voicemail break ups,

Wrong boy in my orbit, 

Or cosplaying Taylor

That trained me so well

How to smile through hell?

I cover my ears, trying to block out the chatter

But all I can hear is “Babygirl, you don’t matter.”

So I’ll sleep on the couch, 

even in my own house, 

And I’ll make sure you’re fine, 

so someone will be mine.

---

Kami Steffenauer is a senior in the college studying Anthropology and Women's & Gender Studies. She is ecstatic about Taylor Swift’s induction into the Songwriters Hall of Fame and hopes this means a much better album than The Life of a Showgirl in the near future.