te pusiste entre
mis costillas
este día y
te quedaste ahí
al lado derecho de
mi corazón
por siempre
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 2:17 PM UTC
you were the albatross
it was your hands versus mine,
it was your word versus mine,
it was us versus the world,
and it was like that,
always and forever,
_forever and always_
you swore
like a sailor and i swore
you were the most wonderful thing
i had ever laid eyes on,
and maybe the most confusing too
you could have called me,
told me we were
leaving,
and you know better than anyone
that i would have
thrown my whole life
into a suitcase and run
away with you
things are different now,
though, and it seems like
you’re ready to
leave,
but it’s the kind of leaving that’s
going to happen without me, without us,
without telling me
it has never, ever, ever been
my place to stop you
you aren’t much one for mercy,
and i should’ve known from the second
i met you. i learned
a lot that day, all of it about you;
i learned that your heart
beats differently
for me than for every
other person
on the planet,
and i found out that different
is not always good
with you.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
when will it hit me?
will i wake up some Sunday,
shivering —
will i hear your voice
and flinch?
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 3:06 AM UTC
where were you when
i took flight?
all up in arms,
unarmed and disarmed,
sailing blind across the bed
(that felt like the sea)?
i took up the whole space,
or at least, i fell so that not a single
other person
could move into —
could claim —
could deprive me of —
what little space was left over.
it felt right
for some reason i cannot find.
in rippling covers and groaning springs.
you would have loved it.
the noise, the chaos of it all —
it had your name
all over it.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 1:30 AM UTC
they told me
home is where the heart is
but i, in my separation,
in my distance from this house,
made a place for myself
inside my heart
and stayed there.
it is big and bold and
there is room in it enough for everyone.
i stayed down low,
a crimson dot on the radar,
blinking back wave after wave
after blue, breaking wave.
there is a neon vacancy sign
attached to the front of my sweater.
there is room in my chest tonight.
i am at home within it.
as for the others,
i hope they are too.
it is not my business either way.
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC