are you good at this
it happened when you leaned in for the kiss
by the trees
we were in the outline of the forest
and you knew what I wanted
you
I loved you like
I had always wanted to love someone
and I thought this was what it was all about
that I could leave behind the other aspects of my life
we would always have each other
right?
so why am I here?
standing like a homeless person
on the corner of anxiety and depression
begging you to come back
because when I lost you I lost me
I gave up everything for you
and you just gave me up
like catching a fish and releasing it
I never thought that being left would feel like this
I feel hopeless
like a tidal wave has ripped through my life
and took everything I had to sea
it took you from me
I want you back
I want the tide to roll back in with you
but I can't love you anymore because you left
my friends say you ruined me in hushed tones when I leave the table
the sad part is
I agree with them
I think I should have known
that someone who kisses so well must kiss often
must want to practice with other girls
but you don't have to practice leaving
you are good at that
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ********** with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
i love you this morning
it's a come home safe morning
fog on the road
& no seatbelt kind of morning
the sun is over easy
& nothing's on fire
there's punctuation
where i don't want it
and extra love
in the glovebox of my car
been thinking about being honest
how these poems are all me
but they tell the story
how someone else
might believe it happened
within reasonable doubt
no copy & pasted love letters
no 'who ever says hello first gets my attention for the day'
try a little tenderness
in my ears and today
there are instruments
in the back of my head
i think you love me
because i'm sunburned
felt it in a 'come hell or high water' kinda way, that 'touched from far away' kinda way that 'if i touch this piano one more time one of us is going to break' kinda way
and i drove over 17 bridges yesterday and today i'll do it again
and i think nobody gets
what that means except maybe you
i just tell them i love the scenery
that somebody must've made
these trees blush just for me
you know how i love
to change the subject
i bet they'd love the view
i bet you would too
and all these metaphors
for other things are beside the point
this is a metaphor
for why i don't wear my seatbelt
a metaphor for why whiskey
knows me better than you
could ever try to
all the buildings seemed to sag yesterday and all the stars
are doing that cliche thing
where they talk
quiet jet noise
& some lumbering giant
made everything shake
not those hand metaphors
not another one of those
& keep the sea to yourself
i think it was a train
it's sound hugged the embankment
for a moment
and then trailed off into nowhere
and that's kind of like me
how there's a town called 'rescue'
close to my home &
it's no coincidence
that i've never been there
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
on my seventeenth birthday
you said you were gonna stick around
so I thought that meant forever
that we were as good as bound
but where are you now
on the day my brother left
you said you would never hurt me
that we will be good for each other
just you wait and see
but where are you now
when we had our first fight
you said that our fight was a good thing
and I had learned to believe you
so your praises I would still sing
but where are you now
on the day you said goodbye
you said I was holding you back
that you needed some time
you promised you were coming back
but where are you now
on the day you had been gone a month
he said I was beautiful and told me a joke
now you are coming back
but he already fixed the heart you broke
thats where I am now
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
that was the day I set sail
that was the day I said goodbye
before the day of my shipwreck
before the day I closed my eyes to die
you see
I thought you would miss me
when I set sail
when I left for the sea
and now here I lie
on the ocean floor
waiting for the tide to be kind enough
to wash me up onto the shore
but now I see
I dont know how to make you miss me
because now I know
you never did love me
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
I once read
(as I often do)
That every seven years your cells regenerate
(making you basically new)
I used to think it was cool
(when I still had you)
But now I am afraid
(I am terrified)
I want to be that old person again
(the one that you recognized)
Because if you don't recognize me
(who will)
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
I'll tattoo ****** on your lips
That's what its like to kiss you.
the smell of death
lingers in my hair where your fingers ran
I don't understand.
why would you **** me with your empathy.
I know nobody cares for me.
the quieter it gets
the more voices I hear.
you had too many choices
And I think you made it clear.
I'm not what you wanted
I let you inside and you left my body haunted.
You taunted me with kisses.
You made me feel false love.
I know no one misses me.
I miss you though.
I'll just go, I'll leave you alone.
But I'll tattoo dead across my eye lids.
So they all know what you did.
I won't live for anyone but you.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
My grandfather built a canoe when I was young
A handmade wooden canoe
A canoe thats never been used
He built that old canoe in an end of life crisis
A crisis brought on by quitting smoking
Now he lives in a home for people just like him
People who don't know they're in a home
And now he remembers that old canoe
But he doesn't know my name
How many people are jealous of canoes
And now I have to wonder if he made the wrong choice
The choice he made when he quit smoking
Because I would rather die of rotting lungs
Than live on while my brain rots
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
I
loathe
fighting with
my entire being.
Maybe because I have
never really been in a fight
just observed my parents, my
friends, everyone around me and
watched as the tension built and built
and built making me feel as small as a child
and as powerless too. People don’t understand
the consequences of their actions, I don’t understand
people. But, I understand fights. Words are like slingshots
catapulting friendships into dangerous territories the words you
say sometimes you mean them, sometimes you don’t and it’s the
words you mean that are the worst. Those are the words you can’t
take back. And what I understand about fights taught me this. A fight
is like a symphony it builds and builds until its deafeningly loud, and then
its quiet, and there is nothing left leaving its audience unbearably sad and at a
loss.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC