Well, you got me
There, I said it:
I love you and
I love you madly and
I’m not as drunk as you think and
I want to be with you forever
And, Hello? Are you still there?
Talk to you tomorrow.
Goodnight…
So thanks for that,
Ironing my thick skin
So that it’s paper-thin.
I’m feeling
A little more vulnerable
Than yesterday,
A bit more ashamed
To put these emotions
To my name.
Thanks for tricking me,
You’ve proved me naïve
And if I weren’t so busy
Being thankful
I’d probably be ******
That the sun never rises
Exactly when it’s supposed to
And that you drove
In and out of my life
Without
Even breezing through
The rest stop.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 5:06 PM UTC
When I drove up your driveway
To take you for a walk on the beach
I saw you lying on your back,
Arms crossed over your chest,
On the cold summer-night pavement
With your mom standing above you
So I rolled down my window
And she looked at me and said,
“Too many pancakes.”
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
It was the darkest ******* night
You could imagine, especially
In a town like ours,
Stripped of streetlights
Down to the basic blinking
Of a single red stoplight,
Where the first selectman
Probably wants us to feel
Invisible, which is ultimately
What we really are
In this corner of the earth
Blind to war and starvation
And disease and discrimination
And bug bites and sour milk
And lost pen caps and return-to-sender letters…
Those things aren’t native in our minds
They don’t spill off the surfaces
Of our tongues because
We have people to worry
About that for us—
Well, I don’t—
But we couldn’t find the reservoir
So we sat in my car, turned off,
Emotions turned up,
And it winds up we were
Right next to the reservoir
The entire time…
It had just blended in
With the sky and with the road,
And if I didn’t know any better
I’d say we were just floating
Along the water as I told you things
And you held my hand
And the soles of your feet
Were pressed up against my windshield,
Which left imprints in summer dew, there,
And on my heavy heart,
But it was so ******* dark
And I didn’t even notice until morning,
When I couldn’t feel you squeezing
My hand every time I told you
Something new,
When it was light enough
To find the reservoir,
Which I don’t even think wanted
To be found.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:50 PM UTC
I know I'm going to lose you one day
Because I've done and will do things wrong
It amazes me that we've made it this far
And that no one better has come along.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
Every idea you hang onto
About beauty and “the one”
Is forged and skewed
By your deepest need
To fall madly in love
With whoever will have you.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
If I could go back in time
And say one thing
When I still had you
I would tell you
Not to take for granted
People like me...
Because I was ready
To keep an extra towel
By the shower
And stock my fridge with
Water bottles so they were
Always cold the way you liked...
I was ready
To adore you
To love you, even,
And you threw that away.
Getting rid of me
Meant getting rid of
Late night drives to nowhere
And so much ice cream
That it hurt
But you didn't seem to mind
And it's probably better that way
But man, I wish I could go back
And tell you
That you'll never find anyone
Willing to give as much as I was
Or put so much into
Making something work.
I can't go back
And tell you this
But if I could I would,
And I would tell you
While holding your hand
So you could feel my pulse
Beating through your skin
And you might think,
"This is the beat
Of a heart
I could love."
But if I could go back
And say all these things
I would say them
And walk away,
And I'm just taking a guess
But I think
You might regret
Writing me off.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
I will know that he is the one
If the world starts and ends with him,
And if his hands
Rest easy on my soul.
I won't give him up
If his voice can talk me into a dream,
And his touch makes me
Keep and lose control.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 9:24 PM UTC
He said, "Tell her it was your fault,"
As if a four-year-old drawing Spiderman in art class was the worst offense--
Messier than the milk he spilled that morning and louder than he'd scream that night
As his mom looms over him, saucepan in tow.
"Tell her it was your fault," he insisted as his mom got out of the car to collect her son,
Her property, her punching bag, and bring him home to God only knows what kind of house
Full of whips and chains or--perhaps worse than that--sheer normalcy and the emptiness of a wealthy family's home
Since a life lived being pushed around is one that feels bare like a vacant motel room
Where one day he'll sit, thrown out of his house by his wife and kids
Who will be stronger than his mom was, braver than she'll ever be.
He just wanted me to say it was my fault so I did, but it wasn't enough to break the spell
And now I know that nothing ever will be
Because five hours of statements with the police and interviews with child services
Won't effect change in this boy's life
Because if his saying, "Mom hits me" can't,
Then nothing will.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 5:24 PM UTC
She gave her rabbit an ear infection
And she goes out of her way to step on ants,
She crashed her car into a deer
And she purposely doesn't water plants.
She won't put ***** dishes
In the dishwasher like she should,
And she prefers not to write thank you notes
But if she does they're never good.
She wastes paper because she wants to
Not because she doesn't realize she's doing so,
She leaves the bathtub running for a second too long
Just to watch it overflow.
She argues with professors when she disagrees
And she'll do it in front of a class,
She hasn't learned just yet how
To speak to anyone without sass.
She says mean things to babies
In the sweetest sounding voice,
If she's helping someone make a decision
She'll encourage the wrong choice.
She's good at what she does
So she refuses to discuss
That she's not a good person,
But honestly...
...she's better off than any of us.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
Now that I'm gone
I see how it's true
That when you're physically gone
Your mind is too.
Mine's in Montreal
Where there's no right on red,
Where I woke up to a roommate
Fast asleep in her bed.
Until August I'll keep dreaming
In French words I don't yet know
And how I'm missing the few months
Montreal sees no snow.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC