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  Mar 2019 Gertié
E. E. Cummings
the
     sky
           was
can    dy    lu
minous
            edible
spry
        pinks shy
lemons
greens    coo    1 choc
olate
s.

  un    der,
  a    lo
co
mo
      tive        s  pout
                               ing
                                     vi
                                     o
                                     lets
  Jan 2016 Gertié
Nancy E Tracy
A poet is a nightingale
Who sits in darkness in the wood

He sings to cheer his solitude
With sweet sounds noone's ever heard




"In His Land of Dreams"
Gertié Dec 2015
Darkness was all
there really was, until
I met you. I was blind
and suddenly I saw red---
I felt every vein
and capillary pulsate
throughout my body
and I am reminded
of that night you
chose a man who
gave you most of
the pleasure and
less of the pain.
And then I saw orange---
orange asked me if
I was ready to leave
and forget all about
you, and then came
yellow and green
and I get flooded
with memories of
you and me and
what used to be.
When blue mixed
with indigo and
violet, I knew
that this was
going to be
life without you.
Darkness was all
there really was, until
I met you. My heart
is a prism and you
are the light.
Gertié Dec 2015
There is nothing more painful
than having the ghost of the past
come back to haunt you again
after having convinced yourself
that the memory has been
long forgotten; no amount of
bottles kissed nor nicotine
breathed will ease the pain
of remembering what will
never be again; no amount of
lips tasted nor innocence
tainted will make me forget
the feeling of your skin
against mine. There is
nothing more painful
than dreaming of how you
used to touch me and feeling
like it was so real although
being with you felt surreal
even in a world created
by my mind that isolated
the memories of you
from the memories of
what you did. There is
nothing more painful
than knowing what your
worth is in your eyes
and knowing that you're
worthless in his eyes.
And I know I shouldn't be
letting it haunt me like it
still mattered because I
know you don't matter the
way I never mattered---
and maybe,
maybe...
I should finally get
a hold of myself because
I know you are never going
to hold me again.
Gertié Dec 2015
the first time you have
mistaken me for her
i knew it wasn't
just a freudian slip
i mean i was aware
of it for a while now
i just chose not
to comment on it
but if i said
i didn't mind at all
i would be lying
but i guess
pretending i don't
know anything
is still sort of —
kind of —
lying.
like that time you
made me breakfast
in bed and i was
surprised you knew
how i liked my
coffee when you
didn't even like
caffeine — but
i realized that it
was the only
thing you knew
how to brew
because she was
the one who
taught you.
and that time
i was so sure
i caught the first
syllable of her name
trapped between
the intersection of
your lips and my skin
and throughout
that whole night
i wondered if you
were closing your
eyes because of
pleasure, or because
of the pleasure of
imagining her.
but the last straw
was on the day of
our wedding, and
we were saying
our vows, and i said
i (my name)
take thee (your name)
as my lawfully wedded
husband and you
were supposed to
say i (your name)
take thee (my name)
but instead of my
name you said hers
while we were at
the altar and you
were holding my
hands and
i knew —
and i have
always known
that it wasn't just
a slip of the
tongue.

{g.c.q}
  Nov 2015 Gertié
Tom Leveille
someone's in the next room over
having *** while we
are weeping
what a way to mark the occasion
the day my fingers found a wound
you let someone else doctor
it's upsetting see
the bible in drawer next to us
the way our hands still
fit together
like the torn halves
of a love letter
the way you got
all dressed up like the rain
and how we couldn't tell
the difference in the shower
it was the longest hour and a half
spent crying
the hot water wouldn't give up
so why should we
right?
even though it was scalding
neither of us touched the ****
we knew this was supposed to hurt
your hair
a black mess against my shoulder
my fingers
oil in the vinegar of your hands
our bodies
the great divide
all the sobbing
a river runs through it
without the courage
to carry or **** us
so we step out
and drip dry
down to a mute breakfast
composed of quiet
and last nights liquor
as we came back in
there were people in our room
at first i thought them detectives
dissecting things
to see who had died here
i had forgotten this
was a hotel
and they were only
cleaning up after us
i wanted to stop them
plead
that the sheets were still perfect
that if they clean the bathroom
no one will know
what happened here
someone has to remember
"please
i know
these cigarette burns
by name
i will bury the faucet
let me take the tub
i don't care how
if i have to
i will drag it home by hand
"
  Oct 2015 Gertié
Tom Leveille
ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
   *stage 1
you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
   stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
   stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends
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