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Bob-m
Erie I am doing the writing and the breathing and the being.
I would stand by you forever if you asked. But you haven't asked. And I can't stand alone forever. And that's why I must go.
0
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 11:56 PM UTC
Why I Have to Leave
I used to think that loving someone meant: Loving them despite their flaws, loving their body, loving their eyes, loving the way their lips move when they speak. You saw them and loved the thing they call a body. I used to believe in love at first sight, knowing right away, when you saw someone, that your souls were meant to mingle as were your lives. I used to believe you’d love someone fully from that first moment. That through the lens of your love they would be perfect, and your love would be all the stronger for it. Now I know what loving is. When I first met you I knew you were dismissive by your disregard for your appearance. I saw your birthmark and your imperfect teeth. And judged you for it. I heard your awkward laugh, And your dismissal of things that I thought were important. And I thought you were foolish and disdainful. Your body was like those birds which stand above the water they fish in, and it was funny. But we braved trials together. And I began to know you, to really see you. I learned what it meant when you said, “Eh.” I learned your handwriting and the way you eat. Ketchup. Everything drowning in ketchup. I saw you. And before I knew it, I loved you too. I didn’t see your birthmark. I loved making you laugh. I thought it was funny and endearing watching you fold yourself into a Chevy S10. In other words, a tiny red truck, for the layman. We passed each other notes, like kids. We argued, all the time. Now we “discuss.” We eat at the same diner every day. The waitress brings our drinks right when we sit down but not menus. We sit and don’t talk, for hours. in the diner, on the couch. But in the car while you drive, because you love to drive (especially in the snow), sometimes I think you talk just to fill t h e s p a c e. We drive thirty mintues to go to Olive Garden on a Sunday. In a blizzard. The waitress gave us nine mints. (So it was worth it.) You texted me (at 2am) when your brother-in-law left your sister. and you asked me what to do. When I fall asleep in the car to a ‘patriot’ radio station you drive slowly so I’m not disturbed. You are ridiculous. And I have also become ridiculous. Half of what I say, are our jokes. So none of it makes sense to anyone else. The same words fall from our lips at the same time. My hand is your hand and now your thoughts are my thoughts and we are sameness. I think I know now what love is. It’s not despite. It’s not instead. It’s not because of. It’s seeing and accepting those flaws. Until you don’t see them anymore.
0
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 11:38 AM UTC
A Red Chevy S10
I used to think that loving someone meant: Loving them despite their flaws, loving their body, loving their eyes, loving the way their lips move when they speak. You saw them and loved the thing they call a body. I used to believe in love at first sight, knowing right away, when you saw someone, that your souls were meant to mingle as were your lives. I used to believe you’d love someone fully from that first moment. That through the lens of your love they would be perfect, and your love would be all the stronger for it. Now I know what loving is. When I first met you I knew you were dismissive by your disregard for your appearance. I saw your birthmark and your imperfect teeth. And judged you for it. I heard your awkward laugh, And your dismissal of things that I thought were important. And I thought you were foolish and disdainful. Your body was like those birds which stand above the water they fish in, and it was funny. But we braved trials together. And I began to know you, to really see you. I learned what it meant when you said, “Eh.” I learned your handwriting and the way you eat. Ketchup. Everything drowning in ketchup. I saw you. And before I knew it, I loved you too. I didn’t see your birthmark. I loved making you laugh. I thought it was funny and endearing watching you fold yourself into a Chevy S10. In other words, a tiny red truck, for the layman. We passed each other notes, like kids. We argued, all the time. Now we “discuss.” We eat at the same diner every day. The waitress brings our drinks right when we sit down but not menus. We sit and don’t talk, for hours. in the diner, on the couch. But in the car while you drive, because you love to drive (especially in the snow), sometimes I think you talk just to fill t h e s p a c e. We drive thirty mintues to go to Olive Garden on a Sunday. In a blizzard. The waitress gave us nine mints. (So it was worth it.) You texted me (at 2am) when your brother-in-law left your sister. and you asked me what to do. When I fall asleep in the car to a ‘patriot’ radio station you drive slowly so I’m not disturbed. You are ridiculous. And I have also become ridiculous. Half of what I say, are our jokes. So none of it makes sense to anyone else. The same words fall from our lips at the same time. My hand is your hand and now your thoughts are my thoughts and we are sameness. I think I know now what love is. It’s not despite. It’s not instead. It’s not because of. It’s seeing and accepting those flaws. Until you don’t see them anymore.
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107
Hey, what's up? Oh nothing much, breathing each day because that's what I'm supposed to do I missed you in class today I'm sorry I wasn't there, I was feeling sick How've you been, girl? I've been doing good with you around We should hang out sometimes I feel full up with butterflies, frantic and buoyant and beautiful I really like you. We should do that again soon Frisky fun from foot to frown, my sadness is upside down Hey beautiful You are my sunshimmer I'm sorry I couldn't say it back. You surprised me Words are wearisome weights, wagging tongue, westward wailing woman . . . I'm sorry. So sorry. So, how was your day? youseemsofaraway What've you been up to? wherehaveyougone I can't make it again this Friday iamsoalone . . . Tears are trekking to the toe-ward turn of my mouth.
0
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
My Love, My Love
These unspoken words are bitter seawater in my mouth Cold and choking I cannot swallow them They make me sick. Yet I cannot give this burden to you I cannot force these heavy stones into your pocket The glimmer of light from your eyes reaches through the murk of my melancholy How dare I consider sharing this loaded gun This noose for two, or for one Heavy, heavy weight My familiar friend How can I say these deadly words? How can I say "I love you."
0
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC
Words like Stones, like Saline, like Sadness