I'm not all that different
From doctors and surgeons

I search for sharp eggshells
In brownie batter

It's a grueling task
Yet, one I can't miss

Without my extraction
My dessert is displeasing

My grandfather's surgeons
Are similar to me

They search for the blockage -
A distasteful one at that

Hands search
And scavenge

They use medical instruments
I have utensils of my own

Both certain that sharp eggshells
Harm the entirety

There are times I
Come up short

The pesky shards
Are difficult to find

And I am afraid
Of the doctor's similarity to me

I pray they find the eggshells
Inside my grandfather's arteries

Late last night I had an epiphany. It could have been the cereal or the Siberia-like weather talking, but I had a newfound realization. It really was late. Late nights are great for overanalyzing. I could have been doing just that. Yet, this morning, I was reminded of my revelation.

You and I live in a generation full of selfishness. Narcissism in relationships, in particular.

That was it. That was my epiphany. Maybe I'm just late coming into the game. Maybe everyone around me made this connection before. But I hadn't.

I am patient. I like to think it's a positive quality of my personality. But, my patience tends to roll over into being a push-over. And all of the men I have been with treated me as such. Many of them used me for their selfish advantages.

Before I start ranting on and on and give you the backstory of each of my relationships, I want you to know that I'm focusing on what ended the relationship, or what caused the downfall. It was selfishness.

But, it wasn't outright selfishness. It was narcism in disguise.

Every "break up" conversation from his side started off with an "I'm sorry". Then, he would give me a bunch of half-hearted reasons as to why things weren't working out. Finally, he would end with an "I'm doing this for me."

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about being there for yourself. Sometimes, we need to find out who we are as a person. That exploration can be muddled when you're pursuing something new.

But as I was letting the cereal digest and watching the ice form on my windows, I finally realized it. Many men of this generation are selfish. Selfish to the point of self-sabotage.

Within the last year, I've briefly and not-so-briefly dated three men. These were their break-up lines:

Man #1. "This is the year I start getting into my major. I feel like I need to figure myself out. I'm doing this for me. I need this."

Man #2. "I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have tried to get into a relationship with someone right before I was headed back to school. I need to do this for me. I need to be able to figure myself out."

Man #3. "I've always felt trapped in Minnesota. I need to go to Arizona for me. I don't have time for you. I can't focus on a relationship right now. I need to focus on my life, my job, and my schooling, for me."

You might be reading this and thinking that I'm great at whining. I'm just a girl who's bitter, burnt out, or hurt over what once was. You might be thinking that I choose all the wrong guys; that I'm prone to "bad guys". But I'm none of those things.

All three of these men were different. All three came from different backgrounds, different states, were various ages, had various personalities, and different interests. Man #1 was shy to the nth degree. Man #3 was extremely outgoing. Man #2 was well-off. Man #3 worked a minimum-wage job and scraped by. Man #1 was an athlete at heart. Man #3 loved metal and Netflix. Every man was different... yet they all had one similar commodity.

They were selfish.

Each one asked himself, "what am I getting out of this? What's in it for me?"

Maybe I was intimate with them. Maybe I wasn't. Maybe I was the one with the car or the finances. Maybe I wasn't. The situations were different in each of the three relationships. So, I have a feeling that none of these factors influenced each man's decision.

They were selfish. That's the only way I can pinpoint the end of each relationship down.

I'm not saying that all men are dogs. I'm not even saying "To hell with men!" Although, a part of me understands that relationships weren't meant to be viewed with this mentality. The whole, "what's in it for me?" forefront is the exact opposite of what a relationship should be.

And that's where my conclusion stops. I've finally realized that many men of this age are egocentric... but I don't know what to do about it. I now know what I don't want in a relationship. Now, I can see the red flags clearly. But I'm unsure of where things are headed.

What I do know is that I won't settle for selfishness. I won't settle for a man who wants to know what he can "get" out of a relationship. I won't settle for a man who puts half of his heart into something and keeps the other half for himself.

I will wait for someone who is willing to ask himself what he can do for me... not what I can do for him. I will wait for someone who will put all of himself into a relationship. I will wait for someone who will leave his selfish mentality behind and put me first. I will wait.

Sure, no man is perfect. You might be thinking that I've put my standards too high. But I deserve high standards. I deserve to be looked at as rare, beautiful, and treasured. I wasn't meant to be cast to the side for selfish reasons; for "finding myself" or "doing this for me".

I was meant for more, and I won't settle for anything less.

red sheets
      knotted
the closet
      half full
rusting
      faucet
brunette
      lulled

the children
      spinning images
their father
      consumed
wife
      exhausted
homewrecker
      perfumed

dishes stacked
      high
lights flicker
      on
sheets hung
      dry
door
      unlocked

She was not just "asking for it"
Her skirt showing her long limbs
She is not one to submit
Or to give up when told to quit

She will not stand for your catcall
For your whistle and "hey there, doll"
You should not be appalled
Because she really can rule it all

She is fierce and she is true
She's neither higher nor lower, but she is equal to you
Her body is not just something you can tear down and *****
So, pack your things and say adieu

She is feminine
As well as pure adrenaline
Cease to examine this "specimen"
And become a true gentleman

I see your broad shoulders around every corner
Your ghost follows me through the corridors

The campus walls are closing in
Everyone knows everything

Lost in thought during each lecture
Pushing away images of her

I wanted the full story
I thought that you adored me

Yet all I see are marks on your skin
Marks that I did not give

My hair was still on the pillow
My clothes were still on the floor

Then you had her in the same bed
And repeated the words you said

These grounds are killing me slowly
Your friends are calling me unholy

But you're the liar and the cheat
You're the one lost in a web of white sheets

Hands limp and bodies warm
Legs intertwined

She sleeps on my side

Dark blue sheets losing my scent
Illuminated by moonlight

She sleeps on my side

Heavy breathing
And arms wrapped tight

She sleeps on my side

His deep voice and lazy bones
Tired eyes

She sleeps on my side

Your intentions confirmed
Our love denied

She sleeps on my side

You cannot judge a piece of art
you do not delve within
each day

You cannot speak poorly of another writer's
sweat and tears
and consider yourself a creator

You cannot effectively write
unless you choose to read or record
each day

You cannot decide to tear my stanzas apart
but uphold your short phrases
and consider yourself a creator

picturesque scene
toothy grin
caught in a dream
highly addictive sin

please pull me in
hands on hips
warm breath and skin
the moon and its eclipse

a hand to hold
chilling breeze
my heart to mold
both minds at ease

The vape from your e-cig
Fogged up the windows

I wrote a story
Along each side of your car

Letters
Which formed your name

Handprints
To keep me steady

The air thickened with
My breath and yours

Your leather seats were cold
But your hands felt like summer

Fingertips left my skin
Hot with desire

The vapor
Leaving your lips

Reminded me of
Foggy July mornings

The stubble on your chin
Was like grass grazing my thighs

Your eyes were ever-changing
Like the sky before a summer storm

The air in your car
Was warm enough to melt the ice

Outside, temperatures
Dipped below freezing

Yet, with you,
Our time together was blazing

Falling in love with a stranger is painless
Effortless to adore their smile

It is simple to wish the very best,
For wanting nothing more but their happiness

He is my stranger
But we weren't this distant before

I continue to cherish his smile
Fall again for those soft eyes

He was my lover -
Hands warm and lips warmer

Presently, we are each other's ghosts
Haunting the halls

Disturbing my memories
Troubling his thoughts

I am in love with a stranger
But not any ordinary outsider

He was my best friend
My ghost knows me better than I know myself

Loving a stranger is undemanding
But difficult when that stranger is also your ghost

you ask unceasingly
for the warm crimson beating
hands outstretched
waiting

i keep him intertwined
with my comparative mind
unable
to go

he received everything
in return, promised a ring
i kept
in haste

you desire little
make loving truly simple
timid
i shake

he's but a memory
of failure and treachery
you are
neither

what keeps me breathing is
no longer considered his
i rip
it clean

I let them come and go
Taking what they need
I give them what they like
Men are too easy to please

Small talk flows
Before we cut to the chase
Ripping up grass
And keeping the same pace

He is a friend
And a lover for an hour
Sharing something so sweet
But we turn it sour

I let him come and go
To ease the pain
Making pleasure my companion
To keep me sane

We agree it is a one-time thing
And promise controlled hands
But we will be tempted again
While striving to withstand

I told the stars how lucky they were
To always have someone to look at

They were never alone
No matter where the earth was in space

I told them how lucky they were
To be associated with beauty

Because no one else is constantly told
How beautiful they are

But I know
Stars explode

And I like to think it's because they can't go on
With all the kind words spoken to them

Or maybe looking at someone but not being able to touch them
Caused the stars too much pain

Some stars become black holes
And I asked a dark star why it had become so

It explained that sometimes life
Makes even the brightest stars bitter

And being so positive for years and years
Had taken its toll

I wondered if the newly born black hole
Had any regrets on choosing the rest of its course

It read my mind and told me that
It wished it would have exploded into something new

Maybe to form new galaxies
Or to create new planets

Instead of ******* the life out of
Everything around it

This poem is like one large knot.
I'm failing to unravel my thoughts;
Struggling to get my point across.

This poem isn't right.
Mulling the feelings over all night.
Revising only to continue to revise.

This poem isn't what I want it to be.
Typing it out before pressing delete.
Leaving each line incompl-

I’m asking for confidence
Something that I know is truth, completely
I strive to be more than competent
During this time of hardship and scrutiny

I want to be the best, yes of course
Students deserve a well-informed instructor
But math is a subject in which I can’t preform
Unless I receive help from you, Lord

I can see where the testing is important
Every state has a standard to uphold
But one score deciding my fate is pure torment
Especially when details of the results are untold

But for now I will draw near to the Throne of Grace
And search for wisdom from the All-Knowing One
There I will find the confidence and knowledge to ace
My exam, knowing the work will pay off in the long run

I realized we were temporary
When he explained to me
That intimacy
Took on one form: *****

It was more pleasing
To call me obscenities
Referring to me romantically
Felt "unnatural" and "dissatisfying"

To him, I was a fantasy
A tangible painting
But I knew he was momentary
Our fix was temporary

My heart was all too soft.

Afraid to drive north;
Highway leading home.
To my mother's porch,
Food I can't ignore.

This time late last year -
Planning for the flood.
The torrent of tears,
My throat red with blood.

Attempting to hide
My light-headed days.
Mother mortified
Of my dark gray haze.

The carpet soaked through;
Salty tears the cause.
The growth of mildew,
Over my clenched jaws.

Fearful to return
After the downpour.
A second downturn
Leading toward the war.

I've let go of my false hope
There's no reason to hang on

The thought of giving it another try
Makes me feel nauseous

How'd it feel to kiss another woman?
Was it electrifying?

To have the indecency to snap photos
And save them for "your own eyes"

I loved finding out through a friend of a friend
When I previously asked you face-to-face

I had a feeling this was the reason
It had to end in the first place

You're a pathological liar
Who wants the best of both worlds

Go ahead, quench your desire
Devour that thoughtless girl

You ask why I'm avoiding
Hands which frighten me.
You ask what you did wrong
After touching with self-indulgence.

You bring me back
To when I was nine.

I am a child
Begging... for you to stop.
Pleading;
Pulling large hands away.

But this time,
I'm nineteen.

I feel ***** once again,
And the tears aren't cleansing.
They are a reminder...
Of the innocence I never had.

For most, tomorrow is a plain ol’ Wednesday

People will wake next to lovers, strangers, and empty sheets
Rising from their slumber, millions of cups of coffee will be brewing
Telephones will ring in offices and on busy city streets
Children will bask in the tender summer breeze

We will wake in separate beds, in different cities
Tomorrow, you will choose between our relationship and what’s easy
You will both mend my mistrust and hurt completely
Or, you will leave

For most, tomorrow is a plain ol’ Wednesday

After months of playing tug-of-war
I lost you

You told me your heart was never in it
But your words cannot be true

You continue to love me
But you are not in love with me completely

I asked you to kiss me one last time
I tasted your familiarity

Then we walked to my car
Keeping our fingers unlaced was heart aching

Perhaps separation will mend the broken parts
And we will grow while being apart

And maybe we will pick up right where we left off
But for now, you are lost

Bottles upon bottles of liquor
Sour liquor
You know each one by heart
Just like every customer

They swish and sway
Most curse and complain
The older men are creepy, really
The younger ask you out on dates

(Most) of the younger men will treat you right
Learning new details of their lives
Over a 6-pack
Wait until tomorrow – they’ll be back

Watch the shelves empty themselves
Just like the customers
One Bacardi here and a Captain Morgan there
For every bottle, there’s a secret to share

Close the store up
Withdrawals and window banging
If you unlock the doors
They won’t pay you in money

Wipe the dirt and gossip off the floor
We have more secrets than we did before
Lock them all up in the safe
Before they’re shown daylight the next day

pitter patter
whispered the rain
the *pitter patter
of my feet

the soothing voice
of rainfall.
my tender song
at night.

crackle crack
shouted the sky
the crackle crack
of my spine

the tendency
to downpour.
my willingness
to break.

purr thrum
hums the drizzle
the purr thrum
of my breath

the gentle
way to fall.
my softness
in sleep.

The state line is not a white picket fence
The separation of you and me
Does not entail a happy ending

The state line is a loose thread
It is an annoyance of sorts
Ready to unravel us both

The state line is like my two favorite fingers
This landmark and digits cause damage
One to my emotions, and the other to my health

The state line is your mother’s best friend
She knows that there’s no doubt about
Which side we’re both on

When I'm crawling my way
Out of dreaming about you
My subconscious is sure of your presence
Next to me - kissing me awake

But it is just the sun
Pecking my skin
I admire the sun's call for my waking
But the sun's kiss feels nothing like yours

They say that I’m controlling
You tell me I’m emotional

But I’m really just temperamental
I’m unpredictable

I am Mount Vesuvius
Soon, I will erupt

And I will cover our little city and love
In ash

My feelings simmer below the surface
The ground rumbles beneath your feet

Fire lights the sky
Red turns to gray

Passion and play
Fire and rage

Really, they are all the same
Collectively, each will fade

After the spew of my might, desire, or rage
(Whichever one I’m feeling that day)

The dust will settle
And you will suffocate

Then, I will cover you with a gray blanket
And I will smother you

It grew through him
violently,
relentlessly.
Vines and thorns
weaving throughout his
entirety.
Is this what happens
when pride grasps the heart
and punctures the brain?
He touched with force -
bruised and slit.
turned kisses into slaps,
love to sin.
Stood inches taller,
vines lengthening his limbs.
crawling up his spine,
weaving into his skin.
He finally agreed
with his family:
I wasn't good enough for him.
Pride was like
an infestation.
a twisting ****,
an infection.

His fingers run through my hair...
Just as yours did.
Palms large and soft; the wind dares
To graze my skin.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

His breath on the nape of my neck...
Kissing furthermore.
Giving my nose a swift peck...
Rattling the door.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

Forming tears without trying...
Cold blow to the face.
He kisses before biting.
Nips in the same place.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

Reminds me of what once was:
Summer days... cold nights.
Whispers of our eros love...
Blown out candlelight.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

Choose your words carefully, now
Stick a coffee filter
Between your mind and mouth
Please try to control what comes out

Hold your tongue
Staple that muscle
To the pinks of your gums
Please just do it for my mom

End the R-word
Print it in a million books
And watch the pages burn
Put a stop to the harmful looks

Terminate "*******"
It isn't a synonym for "absurd"
It's not just a filler-word
My cousin is not to be discarded

If I could eliminate
The word I hate
I would cut the letters up
And hide them away from the ones that I love

Dispose of this nasty term
Cut this expression down
Watch this word infest with worms
And let the death be the talk of the town

I.
Grab my suitcase from the carousel
Lead me through the baggage claim

Take me by the hand
Tell me you would take me anywhere

Hail a taxi and rush
Because he's already got the meter running

We're like Chicago
I love the city but you hate the hustle

II.
Walk the suburbs with me
Hold my hand down the sidewalks

Drive the BMW to brunch
Come back in time to give the cleaning lady a key

Sleep on a field of feathers
And wake up to coffee brewing

We're like Wheaton
I despise the deep pockets but you love the atmosphere

III.
Take the train from city to county roads
Drive and drive until traffic is nonexistent

Show me your favorite spot by the lake
Dare me to jump in when I fear the blue waters

Stay up with me all night
Hold me while sunlight floods your room

We're like your hometown
I'm your family and you're the charisma

IV.
I'll drive north through sleet and snow
And meet my mother for a warm embrace

We'll make the couch our home
Nesting under a blanket and promise

Ice cream in January is nothing out of the ordinary
For you and me

We're like the town I grew up in
You're the summer breeze and I'm the familiarity

V.
Together, we're a city
We're the ups and downs

You're the broken windows and I'm the noise
We're the wineries and over-priced pastries

You're the quiet and I'm the prying relative
But together, we make any city an adventure

They never mentioned
That the smell of aftershave
And toothpaste
Would be triggering.

Forgot to say I was destined
To be what twisted men crave -
My skinny waist,
His slithering.

Cannot sleep on a waterbed.
Fear that the waves will move
Unsteadily,
Irregularly.

Threw away purple bedspread.
Prayed its absence would improve
Sleeping,
Dreaming

I recognize his twins
At work, the store, and on the street.
Unable to breathe.
Petrifying.

Their crooked grins
Calloused hands, tight grips, yellow teeth
Calls me 'sweetie'
Triggering.

My porcelain skin is no match
For the velvety brown of yours
Your soft chocolate eyes are lovelier
While my greens are merely cold

And I should know better than to refuse
To wipe my face on the floor
I should be more of a lady (or a nun)
If I'm to be all you're asking for

You reference the way I was raised
A single mother and an only daughter
And you're sure that I will lead astray
Your potential grandsons and granddaughters

Know that your son is all
The good you exclaim him to be
But he sees the light in these witch's eyes
Where you see death and greed

I now understand that I will never
Be righteous enough in your sight
And it is because of your background
That you accuse and criticize

You will always be his mother
Who cares for him nonetheless
But I will stay his lover
Even while I don't pass your test

firmly grip
fragile wrists
stare down
hips round
visiting
during sleep
lean against
unimpressed

turn luke-warm
then conform
searching for
short skirts
intending hurt
a nightshirt
pillowcase
suffocate

find a host
become engrossed
twisting limbs
lights dimmed
shedding skin
forgetting sin
unchaste
aftertaste

This day, almost two decades ago
I was pulled from my mother's belly
Prematurely

My lungs were not fully developed
Yet, I still came out kicking
Living

Today is usually a day
That I take in stride
Pride

But the only person
I want to celebrate with
Reminisce

Has left our love to die
He has thrown us away
Unhappy birthday

There was a war inside my head
While I slept for twenty-four hours

I am great at isolation
And pretending short comas are standard

Actually, I was playing hide-and-seek
In hope of you finding me

I was playing pretend
Stuck inside a world of make-believe

These waves of swift uncertainty
Come crashing down in a few dark seconds

But it takes days for the waters
To reach previous tranquility

My roommate's questions are artificial
They "care" because they must

They know I get lost in a thick haze
More often than most

Opening the door to my bedroom
Is like entering the gates of hell

So, they stay as far away from me as possible
And allow me to sleep the heaviness off

she holds my hand,
and whispers at my reflection,
then hollows out
my insides

We promised
Each other love

Vowing to take
Making it seriously

We were careful
And fully enveloped in it

It was good until it wasn't
Love making

We were explicit
Only once

But it was
Our final time

And I knew it was
Parallel to animalistic

Trying to shake
The empty feeling

Hoping I would
Sleep it off

Leave my mother for a life without bassinets
Walk out while attempting to cover your tracks

I have lived my existence without knowing
You may be absent, but your mark is exposing

Irish blood courses through your veins
In mine, the green, white, and orange do the same

The emerald in my eyes does not come from my mother’s side
It appeared from yours, along with my pigmentation – pearly white

Still, I know not the sound of your voice
I have not seen you in person or in print; though it is not my choice

Do I want to picture the man who departed because of my conception?
The man who saw my existence as more than a bump in the road (and the belly)?

Father, you are not worthy of my imagination
But, you are the undesirable inspiration

In disappearing, you left me with an unwanted impression
You are not suitable enough for this poetic expression

You are the salt and I am the sea
And I cannot separated you from me

Impatiently waiting to
Use your only bathroom
I examined the curls
That shaped your hair
From across the room

You were
Exhaustion at best
Tired of me
Worn out from life
Exhausted with your routine

Your roommate finally
Left the bathroom to me
I freshened up
The air was hazy
The towels reeked with ****

I knew we were ending things
I left our aspirations
In the passenger seat
You kissed me goodnight
But I understood that it was *goodbye

Lay down by midnight.
Take my phone off of "silent";
Just in case he calls.

The rusty faucet created puddles
In the kitchen sink

I could hear it drip, drip, dripping
While his mattress squeaked

Failing to concentrate on his eyes -
Were they blue or green?

Hair disheveled and rosy cheeks,
While I was underneath

His chapped lips - agape
Whispering obscenities

Sweat on his brow
Drip, drip, dripping on me

The rusty faucet created puddles
In the kitchen sink

Salty eyes formed oceans
On his gray sheets

From Chicago to Lake Geneva,
I knew it to be true:
I loved you.

It was our spring break
But we weren't at the shore
We were outside your front door.

From your mother's disapproval
To your father's dismay,
I had faith in our mainstay.

It was the scent of your pillowcase
And the warmth of your hands
That solidified my plans

During your parent's time away
The sun chose to break through;
Small specks of dust in your room

It was the curve of your lips
And the promises you made
That gave me away

I was suppressing a confession -
A secret of my own...
Whispered onto your jawbone

My thoughts on the train
Were fully admitted
I, committed

From Lake Geneva to Minneapolis,
I knew it to be true:
I loved you.

There's an ocean
Sloshing around
Inside my head

With each step
I feel the waves
Lap my skull

My mind is
Warped like
A heavy bucket

Brunette waves
Used as
A handle

His hands
Grab handfuls
Yanking my hair

Steers me clear
Of sweet
Relief

Takes me
And my ocean
Anywhere

Has me
Tag along
Just in case

If salty rivers
Ever succeed
In their escape

He let's them flow
Indifferent of
My waterways

Blood stained his white sheets
Our work incomplete
Best efforts to be discrete

"Did I hurt you?"
Views me as ingénue
Hands holding crimson tissues

This wasn't our first
Not near our worst
But our movements were not rehearsed

Yet I expected to bleed
Before his ever-present need
His hunger now mine to feed

It was my confession -
My exhaled expression
That left reasoning unquestioned

My linguistic fragility
Combined with pure sensibility
Caused a loss of my true virginity

Creating noise
out of silence.
Itchy ignorance
and fine lines.

Pretended poise.
Parental guidance:
Your deliverance.
Trying times.

His fingers poked and prodded,
Sweat stung my bare skin,
Sheets wet and knotted,
Correlation was enough for him.

Having a defined lover,
Meant *** was given,
Clothes weren't to cover,
In the same shoes as fellow women.

Because I was his girlfriend,
My body was his.
Just for the weekend,
Or any day, that is.

I'm tired of being sexualized,
Of waking up in a sweat.
Dreaming of his manipulation -
His authority in my bed

I want someone to search for my soul,
To flip through the files of my heart.
Not greedy fingers of yours,
But hands that cradle inner parts.

I feel I am a true educator
Standing in front of my class,
And the time slips away.

A teacher when I fake a smile
For the sake of my students;
Unwilling to cry in front of them.

An instructor at heart
When I am willing to
Show that I am human as well.

A teacher in vulnerability.
Personable in profession.
Tenderhearted in being.

I left my favorite band tee
At his house

Unsure of why I brought it
In the first place

It touched his wood floors
Early in the evening

I didn't let one drop
Go to waste

I wore his maroon shirt
To bed that night

Woke to his soft hands
Around my waist

Steam and vapor fogged
The mirror

He smoked his e-cig while
I showered

I watched coffee brew
While he watched me

I left my favorite band tee
On his floor

Coming to a realization
Months afterward

My shampoo sits in
His cupboard

I left my favorite band tee
On his floor