Our past reeks of week-old salad dressing.
     Don't tell me you're not intrigued.
My health has always been secondary to the glares
     you send my way.
Your love is my tangy dipping sauce;
     too much but never enough.
Super-size me, friend.
I haven't the time to wait for your fickle
     transparencies.
Love me now or love me never.
You never shared your goldfish but I understood your
     upbringings and nibbled on heartache.
An expiration date halts me not. I am too willing for
     your passions and fail to excuse myself.
It takes two to tango but one to dougie.
     Explain or I shall leave at once.
I dance alone, and darling,
     my fries are getting cold.
The microwave does not
     suffice.

He threw them out. Everything.
My pillow.
My CD's.
My toothbrush.
The sting of his actions hit when I saw NSYNC in the trash. My rage was a sort of domestic rage.
My pride shattered, my memories wrecked, he woulod not have the last laugh.
Months later, after my dreaded departure, I stood outside his door.
His dignity dangled on my size 8 finger. It took the form of my misgivings.

I'm sick of the disappointment that sets in when I realize you're over it.
Over me.
I don't care how long ago it was. Can you really look at me and not feel anything?
Guilt? Regret? Even the tiniest bit of want?
Because when I see you
I miss it.
The late night texts. The hour-long phone calls. The daily 'I love you's'
Can you really tell me that you've forgotten those feelings? Or don't at least think about it when you see me, passing by?
I don't know whether to find that hurtful or impressive. Because when I see your smile,
I think of years ago; hair curly, ear pierced. When we went to that cafe and you wore your red shirt because you knew it was my favorite.
How you gave me your hat and I took it off, embarassed and blushing.
I've realized that day is over. A mere wave in the endless ocean of time.
I need to learn how to swim so that one wave does not consume me.

But I had a dream
That you were next to me.
I could even smell your cologne.
But when I reached out to touch you
There was nothing.
I opened my eyes to an empty room.
I haven't slept since.

David looked at the horse, jealous of its dental work and swag
The valley was full of unknown treasures that clouded my mental capacity.
The stars complain of your foul stench
My mother named me Latrell but I found Sara more fitting. Sugar lips taste bitter on the soul
My mind wanders down a dangerous path full of your sharp wit and jagged intentions.
The small white flowers remind you of your ancestors
The intricate crevices of your body are a maze I am waiting to lose myself in
Nothing could lift the ****** tension between our bodies.
The clouds sneer at you and spit on your home.

I walked into the bathroom to find tomorrow's lunch in the toilet, soggy
After that, I threw my dignity to the ground in utter distaste.
My orange juice was the color of ketchup and mustard mixed together
I invited her to my apartment then ate soup that my mother told me was good for the colon
I saw dat ***** roll and gurrl it be fine as hayl.
He treated her like a dog treats a dead fish
The donuts were almost gone so I told my mom I was going to rehab
I always swore i would resist when fate came knocking on my door, but my attempt failed like a degenerate fails a test.
She had forgotten to let her dog out that morning.

Ratchets are red
****** bags are blue
Crawl in my bed
Or I'll kidnap you

It was just a joke
Don't call the cops
You're one fine bloke
With nice high tops

Yo hair is guuuud
And yo body is bangin
If I had yo numba I would
Be callin and sangin

But let me be polite
Don't wanna scare ya off
I want in my sight
Yo pants fallin off

*Swerve

Yesterday I stole a ball
The carpet of my hall
My teacher marked me late
I read the book "Good Bait"

Johnny said I was mean
Pop, lock, drop, and lean
My notebook is red
My math teacher said

Peanut butter on a spoon
Movie in Comp about a loon
Gum that I will not share
Long hair that does care

My ring size is too big
Will I ever pass Trig?
One horn, multiple dents
Carnivals and circus tents

How do all these things relate?
I don't know but please don't hate
My mother said Halloween was over
I told her no.

Ronald McDonald has always been a role model.
My own daughter giggles in the bathtub of spaghetti.
My brother told me I was stupid so I sawed a chair in half and cried because my pet has been missing since Thanksgiving
The dreams of my mother are the dreams of my father; chickens roaming wide open pastures and pigs being merry.
I threw my hair across the room and yelled sweet nothings meant for the boy who left with my bread
Probably because he knows that she put Sally in the freezer last October.
I dodged an animal in the road on my way here. Swerve
Spoons have a special place in my heart ever since Johnny proposed to me last summer in the local gas station bathroom with one.
I shoved the leftovers of my breakfast in her ear and she replied with a smile and the divorce papers.

I wish to kiss your lips
Much like the wind kisses the autumn leaves
Softly but sweetly

I burn for you
Much like a bonfire on a cool autumn day;
Fierce but silent.

I want to be the one
Who tilts your world on its axis
And lights it on fire, beautiful flames roaring with approval

I want to sing your song,
Play your music,
And be forever intertwined in you.

I want to be the tidal wave that hits you with the delicacy of love
And swim around in your thoughts for an afternoon
Intrigued by their beauty

I want to watch you seeing sights and taking them in,
Like I take in your raw gorgeousness
On a hot summer's day.

I want to be the sweater that surrounds you in warmth
When winter's chill leaves goosebumps on your arms
And icicles on your heart

Your eyes are clouded with memories
They leave trails of despair wherever they roam
And I hope, my darling, I am not the cause

Your lips tell stories as pure as new fallen snow and I smile at the dimple that is so lucky to touch your face everyday

When I see you, my limbs shake
I stumble over my thoughts
The dark sky turns bright and clear

I've always thought that having a poem written about you was a significant compliment
But when I think of you, the words are so effortless
Like blinking or singing

I only hope I can have that effect on someone
Like you've had on me

Your name crossed my mind the other day and I spit, like that would allow your remembrance to leave me
The dock is never long enough, and soon I must turn around on my journey
I meet a man with similar eyebrows as I and I ask him the time, although I know full well that it is an hour past when the chicken crows
He senses my dark past and throws his coat into the water
I smile and tell him thank you
His pride has turned black and his teeth show with a tint more yellow than white
A tear slides down my cheek and I cringe at its salty chemical makeup
Chemistry was a breeze but balancing equations haunts me to this day
That and the look on Bryan's face when I told him I already had plans Tuesday night
I tell lies top comfort my conscience
A cocoon of warmth surrounds me when I see my old piano teacher
I never learned how to play my chromatic scale but I learned how to love
My priorities are zig-zagged bullet leaving the gun in slow motion
I always forget to pull the trigger

That vest offends me sir, leave it on my floor.
The dog barks, but I beckon him with my silence.
The stripes on your neck tell me you've seen sadness.
I sing to the birds, but they fly away because my song offends their small ears.
The bellhop admired my chagrin and asked me to dine at The McDonald's last night.
My mom always told me that life was like a box of chocolates and you never know what you might get. I, however, think its like a port-a-*****, because I have been catching crap all day.
I slapped discretion in the face last summer but it comes back for more, oh so desperate
My lips burn with desire for yours, but tomorrow they shall burn for someone else. Or a milkshake.
You packed everything neatly into a suitcase, but you left the feeling of your lips on mine.
The oatmeal I had for breakfast proves to be no sustenance yet again, and I hunger.
My innards cry for justice but my heart for the cold touch of your lingering fingertips. Smooth. **Raucous.

The officer said it was illegal but I've never been punished thusfar.
I knew it was wrong, but desire consumed me.
I grabbed the man and dragged him into my van.
He screamed and I laughed.
Brutal company.
It was going to hurt, of that I was certain.
His lack of consent did not stop me. I was on a mission, and James Bond always thrives.
I got in and drove as fast and as far as I could.
Speed bumps bring my daughter joy.
She giggles, I smile, he writhes in pain. My smile grows.
A pain bubbles in my clavicle but I digress.
But, I don't digress because it HURT.
I locked the angels in my closet for safe keeping. My mother is proud.
Blood is my favorite accessory. Hashtag period.
My friend always said I was cunning but I never believed her father was a good man.
After all, a good man would never commit such acts.
I threw the empty toilet paper roll at his grave then shouted at his wife's cat.
Meow. Meow, meow. Meow.
It sings the song of the hummingbird so I put it in a collar and walk it to the pound.
The pound sings the song of death, my song.
My student tool box is full of unfortunate goodies, and yes, my English teacher approves.
But I would rather she not. This is my journey, not one I shall share.
I aggressively slap the keys of life, hoping yogurt will seep from the cracks of destiny.
It never does, and I starve.
My granola is friendless.
Life is bitter, like the skin of a plum.
Fierce as a seahorse. But again, I digress.

I stumbled into the train station, buzzed with integrity.
Apprehension strikes like a clock at midnight.
My math teacher never liked my hair. I never liked her husband.
I can still feel you in my presence, shining on me like the sun, even on my darkest days.
My childhood was a sad one, filled with corn harvests and bails of hay for food. Oh, cruel classmates.
Your smile burns me as if I were swimming in boiling water.
I never met my mother but I knew from experience that she hated pineapple and the scent of my hair.
We sit next to each other in class, but we know we want more. To feel as free as two birds in the sky.
My ex-boyfriend's husband told me I was too short to be a dancer but I persevered and became an employee at Subway.
Engulf me in your arms, like fire consumes a building.
My father's rabbit chewed a hole in my cardigan and I angrily cried daily for a day.
Take my hand tonight, we could run so far.

I saved up for a meal at Red Lobster and got a train ticket instead. It will suffice. I wash my hands with the apologies of my enemies. The grime makes me cringe. I should have never sold my pet armadillo at age seven. My best friend, a slave to the hypocrisy of the Democrats. My new hair cut has gone unnoticed and I act like it doesn't hurt. Johnny forgot about my birthday and I broke the window in my bathroom. No one ever asked me to be a godparent. I put my hair in a ponytail only to take it out and do it again. Once. Twice. Thrice. I always hit the red lights when driving nowhere important. You left your ruler at my house so I used it for my history homework. My teacher approved. My jaundice is a daily struggle.

My nose began to bleed. Outer space was my calling since infancy. Never again shall I let my mother's daughter down. The cold ***** told me I was a friend then took my Burger King satisfries. All is alright. I took her to Sandals and pushed her in the stingray tank. Oh brutal memories. They sting with a pleasurable swoon. I hammered the nails into my deck with a pressure similar to that of my car tires. Hard. Tight. I whimper with a paper cut. Hand sanitizer heals the hurt. Also alcohol. Or playing darts with my cat. You're the ******. Or is my ex boyfriend's half lover? He said leave, so I stayed.

Logic is difficult. The idea of anything being coherent is astounding.
Two sentences side by side that make sense.
What an insane thought.
Insanity makes more sense to me. Insanity and disorder.
It is futile to apply normalcy to everything.
Some things just don't make sense.
So next time your teacher asks you the meaning behind an author's plot, setting, or mere diction,
don't answer.
Don't forget
that you are the specialist
and he is the patient.

There is an empty space beside me. Why are you not in it?
I faintly remember your requests of tea and toast in the morning. I wish I'd stayed next to you. Then,
Maybe you wouldn't have slipped away.
You left your jacket, but God Himself couldn't pry it from my miserable fingers.
I am left to look out the doorway, projecting my pleas. Nothing comes from my mouth, right when I need it most.
My eyes sting with the sight of you
Standing by my desk
The one you would throw your keys on after arriving home.
You looked at me with a wild stare
The intensity halted my heart's rhythm.
For a minute, I wished it wouldn't start up again.
But the slamming of the door woke it up. That, and the wailing from the next room.
Daniel.
Not yet 3.

A raindrop trickles down the clock's face, and I know I am alone.
The ticking has seized.
Hope is that wet spot on the pavement you see on a hot day. You arrive to find there is nothing.
A man told me something wise about the past.
I wish I'd written it down.
I grab at clouds but to no avail. The moon is as untouchable as ever.
I've stopped trying to hang sadness with a noose.
It is immortal.

I scrubbed my floors of your footprints.
I shredded the notes you left on my coffee table.
I smashed the bottles of wine you left in the kitchen.
I am sober from the intoxication of your kiss.
Never again will I be vulnerable to the way you whispered my name in the early hours of the morning.
That tingling sensation, where your icy fingertips brushed my shoulders, has dulled.
I miss the chill but Hell will suffice.

The blunt force of remembrance is unbearable.
The stripping of my pride would prove less painful.
Someone told me looking back was dangerous.
I finally understand why.
I fear I've offended those around me;
My tunnel vision has ruined my spirit.
I live a stranger to my own presence.
No one told me to knock on survival's over-sized door.
So I didn't.

I am reminded of the valleys I have never seen when I look into the space between reason and defeat.
Sad is the traveller with no umbrella when it rains.
Dewdrops on a lilac give me hope for my future children.
Piana stools bring me grief, why, I know not.
I sing the grasshopper's song to beacon my family but no one replies. Disappointment has become routine.
Mosquitos were once friends but after my sister's graduation, their moods have gone sour.
Monsters are but misunderstood angels.

The wind blows. Cold. Fire.
My senses heightened by primal instint.
The leaves apologize for their indescretion.
It is okay but I let them think otherwise.
My head turns, forever, it turns, but the cowboy rides on.
Swift silence is no match for the tender soul.
A bat lands at my feet.
Forgiveness is ever-present.
The sound of my almost-lover's brother is loud.
Too loud yet my ears demand more.
I ask where the dreamers went.
He knows not but tells me differently.
I sigh. His lies give him peace.
Not I. Never I.

I've noticed your grimace.
Crawl into my arms.
Let your mind unravel to the simplicity of love.
Let yourself live.
Break down the barriers of confinement.
When the world falls short of water, we will set the stars ablaze.
I will look at them with pride and your name will cross my lips.
This time with purpose.

I know it's bad for me but I invented it's intentions.
I turned my oxygen into carbon monoxide.
And I breathe it in until I see stars.
Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.
Something so sweet only deserves such treatment.
The pleasure an alcoholic experiences with the smell of France's wine cannot compare.
The aroma so satisfactory I fear a moment in its absence.
Dependence is a lethal thing.

He enters the room, smirk on that hideously gorgeous face. The *******.
Walks by the young girls like he owns the swag of a thousand Biebers.
He is mistaken. Or are we?
"Push the air through your diaphram" he says with a sly grin, looking across the room at her.
She looks back. Defiance on her lips? No. Intrigue.
Their eye contact puts a weight on bystanders; The building pressure of a crescendo waiting to be released.
She breaks it. He frowns.
He is impressionable but very rightly so.
She sighs.
Victory sings an out of tune pitch.
He walks over, dragging Zachary's broken French horn behind.
Looks like this student will have to wait; His teacher is on a mission.
"Mission accomplished" he thinks as she sits on his living room couch, wine of glass in hand.
He resides in his bedroom, awaiting the inevitable.
He walks out to find an empty wine glass and an empty room.