i missed the taste of an apple
i didn't even know i really liked apples
until I moved from home and fresh fruits in my diet
became such a rarity
it brought me back home
the taste of an apple
made me nostalgic
reminded me of the summer days
my mom would buy only
instead of the cool fruits-- like
strawberries, blueberries, raspberries--
instead she would buy only apples
(the kind that were on sale, of course)
and I would be disappointed
but begrudgingly I would enjoy the
taste of an apple,
on a hot summer day that leaves that earthy smell
in your hair
this city makes me want to write poems
on little paper napkins,
damp with rings of condensation in cafes
like I imagine all my favorite writers did
Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Bukowski
all scrawling their thoughts on little paper napkins,
cigarette in hand,
coffee (no doubt Irish) before them...
I am the thinnest slice of pizza
A warm beer
A scratched DVD
A lukewarm shower
A last resort
I'm what one settles for when all other options have been exhausted
And what is disposed of the moment something better presents itself
i never thought i'd want to cry.
i never thought i'd be begging those tears to fall, coaxing them out of my eyes
until my heart was ripped to shreds and replaced into my chest in the form of a pile of amorphous pulp.
and when the tears need
to fall the most
i strain so hard i nearly burst
i think of your face
your image plastered on my retinas
i let the "I love you"s,
the "forever"s ring in my ears
i remember all the things you did that made me smile
made me feel like the luckiest human being on earth...
but no tears fall.
no lump forms in my throat.
i am numb.
i was paralyzed the moment i stormed into your house and found her.
that night my world fell apart.
that night your mask fell away.
that night the man that I loved died and was replaced
by a monster
i believed you.
i believed everything.
i believed the "I love you"s.
i believed the sweet kisses.
i believed the tender looks and the gentle caresses.
But i do not know you anymore,
you are no longer anything to me but a vile egocentric
yet i cannot morn
no tears will fall
you've left me paralyzed
your venom courses through my veins
it's 3am and
I miss you so much
I can hardly breathe
the shirt you gave me to sleep in
still smells like you
but every day it smells a little less like you
and a little more like me
and I fear for the day the smell of you is gone completely
because you'll just feel that much further away
of the cities that
while I sit here
with empty arms
there's something about him
that makes me want to sing and dance,
something that makes those previously dormant butterflies,
whom I has begun to worry had been so neglected up they'd withered away in my gut,
awake with such fury
I don't know why it's him
who has caused such a confused flurry inside my heart and mind--
I just met him,
yet I know he's it
he's the one,
as cliché as it may sound,
if there is a one he is it
and with him I have that thing
that rare thing
that happens upon first sight
but, oh, the fear I feel
at the though that
he may not
feel this too