A pair of black Converse
on a tiled green floor
represent something more:
a different age
when I'd not yet discovered
who I would be

It was he who took advantage
and swung in,
like a knight I didn't need;
I was convinced that
the Stormy Sea
was the worst kind of me.

I was persuaded by
a dark-haired boy
who told me that
I would be nothing
but a wretched flea

I stand by the dark blue
skies as they change
to black, and I condemn
this terrible November man:
I switched to blue All-Stars
and kicked my way out of
the deep abyss.

I am a young adult.
I left behind the years of:
the same faces every day,
phone calls every night,
crawling through open windows
in the summertime.

As the years keep concluding,
each faster than the last,
I ask myself after a bottle of
cheap wine:
Would I ever go back to that time?

I wield my new heart
as if it is
my personal body guard

The only way to be truly whole
is if you fracture yourself
first, and learn to
pick up the pieces
to put the puzzle
back again

I miss familiarity;
soft skin pulled over
cheekbones,
red lips poised to speak.

What came out of the mouth
changed as do the seasons.
Summer got the worst
of me, it seems;
angry words at best.

I extend my wrist now
in this blustery fall
to a fresh face,
hoping it will lead me
to unweathered bliss.

Winter will come
as the beginning
of something new.

The King of the
Emotionless
strikes again,
too careless to notice
the war he began.

He retreats back
to the castle
to smoke a ****,
and sleep alone
in his empty bed.

I ask him:
Nothing to fix?

When I saw you last
you walked away
without a word to say.

But I never said
I wanted you to go.

I twiddled my thumbs
while you made the decision
that split me up in two.

I gave you my body parts
in the vain hope
that you would love me the same
as I did you.  

And so I say to me:
You don't need him
to hear from you
that you've found somebody new.