Fingers do a resolute tap, tap
on leather sofa arm.
Eyes shift upwards as
she enunciates each word
“I should have screamed
more.”

No longer does she live
like furniture
in a summer home,
hidden and covered
except when needed.

Newborn screams pierce
her coverings
and erupt, signaling
an end to her pretense.

Weary of repairing
other’s battered armor,
she hammers out
her own dents.

I realized one day
That my eyes had become hard
My gaze, frosted granite
Hard, like the look of men
Who have seen too much
Killed too much
Been through too much
Just a stare
That says it all
Ice behind the eyes
Purposeful and intent
I see the surprise in peoples eyes
When they meet mine
And look hurriedly away
Or ask if everything is alright
They know the look
And now it even shows in the mirror
And my war
Hasn't even started yet

I'm looking for a home.
I always think I've found it,
But I'm beginning to realize that maybe life
Is all about finding home,
And if you find it
You've finished.
Maybe life is just about chasing
Whatever makes you feel like you're home.

You know those people who burn love letters
After the breakup?
I'm not one of those people.
It hurts me to think that anyone could.
What sense is there in denying that something good happened
When such little good comes into such a long life?

When you said we should get a tattoo together
I knew you'd leave someday.
Is that weird?
I knew, that moment.
And I was sad about it for a month
But I never said anything-
When I know things, I just know,
And there is no reason to rush the end
If it's coming anyhow.

I wish I could say I didn't expect you
Not to miss me.
I wish I could say I didn't expect
Not to miss you.
But I see it all coming.
It's my special gift.
I know what home is
And I know when it leaves.
See, I don't leave home.
Home leaves me.
And that's okay.

But I think I need to say
Because I think it is important
That for a minute you were home
To me.

For a minute, your arms were enough.
Your husky smoker's voice,
Your fairy wing shoulders.
For the barest moment
I could see home in your eyes,
And oh,
I lived in that moment.

I am
Such a wanderer.
I'm not sure
I'll ever have roots.
No.
No
I'm not sure
Roots
Will ever have me.

Growing up I used to cry because I missed home.
With my head in my mother's lap
In my living room
I was just too young to explain
That I didn't know what I was homesick for
If I'd only ever lived in one house.

I thought I found home once,
The real kind
And I'm still homesick for that feeling,
That addictive, safe feeling
Of thinking you know what the next day
Will bring you
But
Just like home
That knowledge is never what or when or where
You expect it to be
And it never stays for long.

This isn't a love letter.
This isn't a goodbye, either.
Or maybe it is.
I suppose that
Is up to you.

I guess all I wanted to say is
Knowing you was like driving by a house in the suburbs
Late at night
And all the lights are on
And someone forgot to draw the curtains
So before you round the next curve you can see by accident
A slice of happiness
And maybe you see yourself there
With someone's arms around you
And a cat on the back of the couch
And in that moment
You're home
And then whoosh
It's gone behind the trees and you
Have to keep going forward
Because
Well

You've somewhere to be.

Knowing you
Was kind of like that.

Sometimes he let his eyes rest on hers, it needn't have been painful,
but it strangely was.
He broke a lifetime of avoiding eye contact to show her.
She was worth overcoming obstacles for.

My love, my faire, I dream of thee
Thine softest smile, golden haire

All things mine would I forsake
Of thy love might I partake

Faire Gwendolyn, easily, would I spurn
This broken kingdom sure return

My king, betrayal, I would not have shown
Had thy beauty then been known

And now with greate sorrow do I behold
Thy sweet love and fairness untold

Your servant in all things,  Lancelot

I went looking today.

I put on my red boots
and my blue pants
and I opened up the doors.

I went looking today.

I went through the parks,
the streets, the empty hallways.
I got lost looking for a lost you.

The crowd carried your scent,
carried me,
and I was six and a half miles from home.

I put on my smiles
and my cloak of courage.
My watch ticked away the time my heart drove my feet to you.

I went looking today.

I went looking for you.

I searched the corners of boxes,
under the shade of rose petals,
and in burning letters.

Because I had to.
I had to find you
before I lost my mind.

My bones ached for the home in you,
my heart refused to keep a beat continuous,
my skin began to come undone.

I went looking for you today,
only to stop before your door
and walk all the way back home

still in want.

There was a girl I loved in high school.
Freshman year.
And we had this big long corridor by the library, and it was muraled.
And right before the doors, there was a heating vent painted like the back of an old car,
And every time she passed it, she'd kick the bumper.
She graduated and went away,
And I didn't mention her anymore.

People think I forget.
People think it is possible to stop me loving somebody,
By distance or by cruelty or by advice, even.
And after a while, I do let them all think it.
It's easier for them.
But the truth is, on the last day of my senior year,
I walked by that vent, and kicked the bumper.

I decide if and when a person stops being important to me.
Try and force me and you might believe you won,
But in my little way,
In my quiet, every day sort of rituals,
I always have the last word on who I care about.

Every time I walk in that building,
I go to that hallway and I kick that stupid vent,
And I always will.
So darling, if you're planning on forcing me...
Good luck.