I thought as I got older- wiser
life would make more sense
and that by now
I would have looked the big picture enough
to start to put the puzzle together.
I imagined myself,
sitting with a pile of edge pieces,
separating the x shapes from the h shapes
putting them in their place.
Yet here I am
finally realizing that
I'm not even working on a puzzle
I just have a bunch of odd shapes in front of me
and they don't have to belong anywhere.
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 11:56 PM UTC
i’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon,
skipped breakfast and lunch,
days that fade slowly and end with
****** cut-out holes in eyelids because
the second i close them and it all goes black,
every moment with you comes back
played on fast-forward, the memories moving so quickly
that both our faces are blurred
and it feels like everything i’ve ever felt for you
is overflowing the tub, filling the washroom with
suds that take forever to melt
i’ve given up on those days.
i’ve traded them for ones that begin with
sunrises instead of sunsets,
days that are spent falling forward
instead of trying to chase the past, and i don’t
look back and see something broken, or
something that was better off left unopened
i look back and see our bodies so close together
that you can’t tell where yours begins and mine ends,
i see my heart that grew twenty-three times its size,
i see you and me wrapped up in something that
i didn’t know existed outside of blurry 35 mm
and overdue and falling-apart library books
that sit on the nightstands of middle-aged women
who are bored with their lives
and i’m just so happy i got to love you at all.
but i’ve folded up all the days spent with you
and taped them in the messy pages of my journal
and now i’m running into the sun,
running away from every lie that’s trying to
wedge its way in between my ribs,
running in the opposite direction of words like "regret"
and any feeling that insists that none of it was worth it
because all of it was worth it.
every moment we were together pumps
through my veins, and it will always be there;
it will be there when we’ve both graduated,
when you move out west,
when you kiss your family goodnight,
when you sit in your backyard with tears
in your eyes because you’ve lived a life
you are proud of
it will be there when i finally make it to new york city,
when i kiss someone who isn’t you,
when i find the answers you inspired me to search for,
when i sit on my rooftop with tears on my cheeks
because i’ve lived a life fuller than i could’ve ever imagined
and you and i will live these lives apart,
we’ll move on and forget what it felt like
to wake up beside one another;
we’ll find what we’re looking for elsewhere
and we’ll understand why this all had to happen the way that it did
but what we had will always exist somewhere,
in rotting apples and old mail and unplayed mix CDs,
in mosaics that line the city streets, in sirens and
red and white flashing lights that shine through
your window while you are asleep
you and i were magic,
we always will be.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
Maybe you should understand a few things
before you go playing with my heart
I've been through this quite a lot
so maybe it's really not smart.
I wont trust you so easily
in fact I'm already suspicious
and I'm chronically lonely
So don't recklessly steal kisses
I have no more energy left
So please don't play games
I've already been sighing
at the sound of your name
Its too late,
I'm already entangled in your mess
so remember my heart aches,
please do your best.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 4:02 AM UTC
He begged me to keep him company
but did he really need me?
Or did his gentleman like composure
simply crack under pressure.
The way he held me,
he seemed so strong.
I felt so delicate in that moment
but he crushed me in his arms.
Now I watch him every day
being everything I want
But that's the problem with me
I just ignore every bodies flaws
He took advantage of me
Until I knew something was wrong
He's not lonely anymore
But he was never very strong.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
I watched a woman
get her kids off the bus
This afternoon around 3:30
And I thought about
what kind of woman I was going to be
She looked very dainty and sweet
And I can be bitter sometimes
And I realized I'm deathly afraid
That someday I'll make my kids cry.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 11:18 PM UTC
I’ve been sitting at the park by the lake watching lovers and lonely people pass by and at coffee shops reading that book you always talk about thinking to myself how often my mind drifts to the days you've made me feel weightless and that all I want to do is tell you how I feel but love these days is twisted and the worst thing you can do is admit that you care more and that really destroys me because I could really care less if I’m the one that fell harder. I would turn my world upside down for a sliver of time by your side. It would be wonderful to be swept off my feet by you even if it knocks me to the ground.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
Push and pull
Like waves crashing against my chest
I crave to be free
But I'm not done with you yet
I feel my body
drifting wildly out to sea
Set to wash up on shore
Of some distant southern beach
But I look back for a second
Start to grab for his hand
And he pulls me down under
Will this be the end?
I long for adventure
or do I want to drown in him
How can you decide
If you're going to sink or swim?
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
His name is the aftertaste
Of slowly sipped red wine
Trying to forget the feeling
Of being in love and vulnerable
Knowing your heart
Could shatter into a thousand pieces
At the mercy of a few words
His touch is old love renewed
Soft and dangerous
The kind of thrill that makes you nostalgic
A thousand heartbreaks
Dug up and re-brewed
His lips taste as bitter as old love
And as sweet as the memories
That with it came along
And gently they kiss you
like the way he’d hold fragile glass
Determined to not press too firmly
Causing you to shatter in his grasp
He’s the impossible kind of love
That never forgets you
no matter how long
or far
or stubborn
or dumb
He’s the kind of drunk
That’s hangs over the next morning
And pounds at your head
With memories of relentless love
Hoping you’ll find him in your bed
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
I wonder why
all the poems I write
Are composed at
the mercy of lovers
And why my lovers
can't be the green grass
that peaks out of
melting snowbanks
in early spring
Or the first sip
of coffee at 8 a.m.
on a mellow Saturday morning
in a cafe next to the lake.
Why do we choose
to rest our weary hearts
on things we can't depend on
When we know that the grass
will appear every spring
and we can sip our coffee
and the sun will rise
and the lake will be full
and so will our hearts
If only we requested
simple things to thrive
We could sip coffee with lovers
Next to the lake
At 8 a.m.
And not feel such pain.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC