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 Jul 2015 derelictmemory
berry
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom,
but it's fine, i'm fine.
i've been telling myself for more than a year
that i wasn't going to write anymore sad ****** poems about you,
but here we are.
most days i'm sure i don't miss you,
but then i listen to the wrong song,
and before i know it -
i'm screaming along to band of horses in the dark,
stalking your twitter favorites,
and somehow,
i've managed to get snot on my forehead.
yeah, nostalgia is an *******
but not all the memories sting.
there was that one time we went to the movies
and i slipped on some ice and fell flat on my ***.
i just sat there while you took a picture.
but i'm glad we could laugh about it.
i'm glad we were comfortable.
in my head, we still are.
in my head, we're oversized-goodwill-sweater comfortable.
we aren't as comfortable in real life
but i'm glad we still laugh.
this is the part where i don't bring up the time you told me
my laughter could cure your sadness,
because i'm pretty sure i already put that in another poem,
and it makes me really ******* sad.
did i ever tell you i used to play guitar and piano?
i loved them, but i never tried very hard.
i wanted to be good without having to practice.
i wanted to be good without having to practice.
i wanna meet the girl you write about
so i can ask her how she manages not to love you back.
because i've tried everything & i am so tired.
i forgot this wasn't supposed to be a sad poem.
i'm not good at happy anyway,
i never have been.
but in your absence i've learned a lot about softness.
so if i ever find myself back in your passenger seat,
i won't correct you when you sing the wrong lyrics,
i won't ask why when you take the long way home.
i won't ask you why you don't have your seatbelt on,
i'll just say a silent prayer
and watch for signs that you might be about to swerve.
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom,
and i didn't find you at the bottom of a single one.

- m.f.
 Jun 2015 derelictmemory
Artemis
“Do you think anyone ever really loves anyone else anymore?”

The water is crawling slowly up the shore. You can’t see the sun. He’s hiding behind the clouds again like he has been all week. The forecast had been sunny in the high eighties, and they were right. Partially at least. It wasn’t sunny, but the air was almost thick enough to see and the weight of it was enough to break your legs if you tried to walk for too long. She was sitting next to him. Dragging her finger across the surface of the sand creating these nonsensical shapes like a long lost language she barely remembered how to speak. He sat with his arms wrapped around his legs. His eyes lost somewhere over the ocean far away from the shore.

“You’re not even listening to me are you?”

It sounded more like a statement than a question, but he was used to that.

“I’m listening.”

“Well do you?”

“Do I think people ever fall in love anymore?”

“No, you’re not listening to me. I asked if you thought people ever really loved each other anymore.”

“How is that any different?”

“People fall in love all the time. I know that. But that isn’t really the same as loving someone else.”

“I’m not sure I can agree with that.”

“Think about it.”

She doesn’t carry on right away. She told him to think about it and that was exactly what she intended for him to do. A sun now sits above her absent minded art. It’s simple. Just a few lines emitting from a circle like a child would draw in first grade.

“We spend our entire lives falling in love. We hear all these ideas about what the world should be like, and how people should treat each other. And it all sounds nice, but everything is so impractical, and people are so quick to move on from things that don’t yield quick results. We never stick with anything no matter how nice it sounds. We fall in love with the idea that everyone should be treated equally. We love the idea of a world where people are treated more like people, and less like machines. So what do we do?”

“I don’t know. What do we do?”

“We sit behind screens and go through the motions like we’re making a difference. Sometimes I wonder who we think we’re fooling. You can sit on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr all day long and rant about how messed up the world is, but it’s all so pointless. We know we’re not really changing anything, and it’s not, like, something we feel deep down or anything like that. It’s so fake we know it on a surface level. But everyone else is doing the exact same thing, and everyone knows that everyone else is being fake.”

She stops talking for a moment. Taking a breath and rubbing out her first grade sun.

“We fall in love with the idea. But nothing happens and in a few months something else will be just as important as equality, and we’ll write and rant just as much about that. We fall in love in our heads every other hour, but no one sacrifices more than a few hours of their day and maybe some money. Until you sacrifice more than you would ever want to there’s no way for anyone to know that this ‘love’ we have has any substance.”

A crescent moon has replaced her sun. She turns to look at him.

“I don’t think it’s so different. I’m afraid because it seems like we fall in love with people like their ideas. You can go through all the motions and make everything look absolutely perfect. The guy can send her the sweetest good morning and good night texts everyday. He can buy her flowers, and hold her hand at the movies. He can pay for every meal, and hold open every door. All to the point where he actually convinces himself that he’s fallen in love with this girl. Unfortunately everyone is different and it’s just not that simple. They want to end up in different places. She wants kids. He doesn’t. He wants to focus on his career, and travel the world. She wants to settle down, and start a family. He has no time for her dreams, and she isn’t very tolerant of his. Neither one is willing to sacrifice anything for the other.  So everything falls apart because he was looking for someone to wake up to on the few days a week that he was home, and she was looking for someone who would actually be home. We fall in love with our ideas of people, and I’m just not sure anyone falls in love with another person anymore.”

“I think we could.”

“Yeah?”

She watches him as the tide tries to work up the courage to touch their feet.

“Maybe if we ever just looked up. Forwards for once, and not backwards. Maybe if we tried we could see what was coming. Maybe if we knew what was coming we would know who we would want to go through it all with. Like if you knew you were going to struggle to hold a job for the rest of your life. That would be hard right? So whose hand would you want to hold when you realize you don’t have the money to pay rent this month? Who would you give up the last slice of bread for when you can’t afford any more food for a few more days because payday isn’t until Friday? Because sometimes that’s what life is like, and it is in those moments that everything seems to fall apart. On the surface it seems terrible, to lose everything that we know, but the reality is that we lose everything we have that we don’t need.”

The clouds are moving overhead. You can’t make out their shapes because of the way they’re stacked together, but the way he stares up at them makes her think he see’s something in them she can’t.

“Sacrifice is a two-way street. It’s not only about who you want to be there with you when you feel like you’re getting dragged through hell. It’s who wants to be dragged through hell with you. Not only that, but who would be happy being burned alive as long as they get to hear you breathe. It doesn’t happen often, but yeah, I think it does happen from time to time.”

*~W.C.
you got a fast car
i want a ticket to anywhere
maybe we can make a deal
maybe together
we can get somewhere
anyplace is better
starting from zero
got nothing to lose
maybe we'll make somethin
me myself i got nothin to prove

i've been wondering
when it stops
people say it stops
when you want it to
but how do i tell that
to my dreams
when all i can think about
is running up to kiss you
in the parking lot of anywhere
it makes me wanna drink
and say everything
like sometimes i think about
what it would've been like
if i had let you go
when i
was still strong enough to do it
like i never knew hell
had such a pretty voice
like i tried to make it all day
without saying
"wish you were here"
like lately i've been going back
to all the places we've been
to see what it's like without you
it is the worst game
of hide & seek
every time i close my eyes
to count
you just go home
i seem to only wear my seat belt
on days you call
on days you're all *never been better

and i just wanna tell you
how much I hate window shopping
and daylight goodbyes
you just sit there
when you could say anything
you could tell me
you noticed i started drinking again
you could even make it up
you could say you miss me, too
you could say
you missed me so much
that the other day
you accidentally bought
two coffees instead of one
you could tell me
how you've been
without me
that you sleep so much better
these days
without having to worry
you can say what you have
to just don't say leaving
was like shooting fish in a barrel
cause i swear i'm nostalgic
for things i pretended were real
and i swear
i don't want a seance
until there's something
worth bringing back
take me back
to all the places i tried to love you
back to a time
where i knew my name  
without you having to say it

*you got a fast car
is it fast enough
so we can fly away
you gotta make a decision
leave tonight
or live & this way
excerpts from tracy chapman's fast car
Her ribs crackled, in the skeleton night.
And I remember my mouth on hers,
where atomic fish hooks attached our lips.
Where there was nothing like kissing
like our God wasn't dead.

She was accused of killing a taxi driver
in the Brazilian underbelly.
Smoking a cigarette, she dropped it on the ground,
spat on it, and crushed it with her bare foot,
saying she fell in love with the way
his sleep-drenched body lay.

And I told her to stay home.
And I told her that they'd find her.
But she didn't stay home.
And they did find her.

Chasing her through the Babylon brush,
insults were thrown and so were balloons of gasoline.
Each pink, yellow, and green vessel floated in the air, as an internal opera heightened.
And sour splashes spread across her body,
as she fled from the vigilante mob.

The children danced along the panoramic horizon she ran beside,
laughing, pointing, singing.
The slumbering sorrow of the situation became evident,
and she started to feel the calm of fleeting life.

Her dreams aborted and her ideals became fallacies,
and with the sound of fuzzy motors in the background, her heart leapt and her feet slipped.

Rope ate into her, wrapping her like the orphaned recklessness of each set of eyes that painted her.
She squirmed amongst the cheers.
She cried with every thrown beer and balloon.
The empty-eyed males gang ***** her.
The women covered the children's eyes,
and the children tried to move their mothers' hands.

And I pushed my way through the crowd.
And I saw her smothered in blood, beer, and gasoline.
I wanted to halt the hurricane that destroyed morality.
But I am a coward.
Frozen by my fear, I, too, am a murderer.
And a murderer I'll always be,
for the burning of all that was good.

Sudden flames soared towards the sky.
Laughter escaped as molotov cocktails exploded onto her body.
Her head turned towards the crowd,
as flames scampered across her face.
I saw in her, what I never saw before,
which was the human race.
full circle
I'm laying here with the window open listening to the rain for secrets or something or waiting for you to tell me what you haven't been telling me
like maybe there really is a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair and her eyes are the kind of blue that is never mistaken for grey
she touches your chin before she kisses you, real softly or maybe she traces the spot above your lip where we all know angels rested their fingers before we were sent down here to rot or thrive
maybe you talk about gardens with her, how you'd never ever own an orchid cause that ***** ex of yours demanded one every hospital visit
how flowers aren't for boys but you'll pretend to watch football while you're really watching her bend down to touch the dirt like she used to smooth her baby brothers hair out of his little eyes
before their parents decided that it was more convenient to buy them a little apartment and keep money in the safe while they spent their pensions in Florida watching alligators and Dolphins and toucan ******* Sam but never at the same time
you see, I don't drink earl grey cause it tastes like fruit loops
and I don't eat fruit loops cause it tastes like the childhood I erased from my memory by forcing myself to dissociate
maybe this, is something else altogether
maybe this... is not true, another delusion, maybe your hands are busy counting change out for cardboard signs
maybe your feet move a little bit faster, not because you're in a rush to see someone who isn't me but because you're so scared of ending up back where you started
they're saying "all you do is drink and cry", "I think you're bad for everyone" and you're not saying anything and I'm saying I love you,
I ******* love you
And maybe I needed something to bring me back to reality maybe these bathtubs are always a little too deep for me but I fit so perfectly in small spaces because I learned when I was 14 that i was never gonna grow into a butterfly
but my aunt still calls me hers and I'd still flutter my eyelashes on yours while the earth turned to ash because I like things ending so softly
and you are a ******* miracle if I've ever seen one I want to sleep with you so badly, on a trampoline in the summer and I want to watch you do bad things and smile so sweetly at you and you'll know that I don't give a **** what you do as long as you're still loving me while you're doing it because baby we've got this one life and I've been loving you as long as I have known what love is and I know it's in the way you whisper and I know it's in the way you say you're my world and if the world stopped turning tomorrow we'd be the only things still moving with excitement you make me so nervous and calm and nervous and calm and deep breath you make me nervous I bet you'll make me nervous when we're older and I'm making you pancakes and I feel your eyes on me and I burn my fingers but you always kiss them better baby
you're an alleyway and the kitten that sleeps there
you're the rain on the windowpane and the water breaking the levee
I'm drowning in everything I have ever said to you so if I say one last thing one last thing,
while you're not saying anything,
I love you,
I ******* love you
so you're disappointed
that you're disappointed
and maybe that's to be expected
some folks make beds
out of their catharsis
differently than others
it's this list
of things you lost in the fire
or how jealous you are
of people
who never came back up for air
you're crying
so the faucets leak out of solidarity
& someone asks you
why the floor is wet
so you tell them
"we've been weeping here forever"
then they want to give you
a mouth full of presupposition
by saying
"are you going down with the ship?"
& you look them in the mouth
like Leo is handcuffed to a pipe
five decks down
you look at them
like you just woke up
from that dream everyone has
where all their teeth fall out
maybe it's an intervention
a hearse vs station wagon origin story
a clearance sale
& everything's gotta go
or maybe it's the dream
where you're at the docks
from your childhood
and there's a little girl
unmooring all the ships
because she thinks
they'll float away
but every time
she unties them
they just sink




                                          they just sink
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