Something less than love
by
Jude Kyrie

I was only five when she left us
just a little boy.
That long ago summer
when the heat
burned upon the earth
and also our passions.

she left us with the handsome
man with the big car.
since then even after all
these passing years
I have looked
and searched for a place
to lose my sadness.

sometimes in the stillness of sleep.
I would hear the songs she
sang as I fell asleep in her comfort.
or feel her lips softly on my cheek.

I dreamt of her often
hearing
her almost forgotten footsteps
coming into my room.
I painted her beautiful face
in my mind
until time faded it to a blur.

Now a man no longer
a little boy
with torn jeans and.
***** tee shirt.

people say to me
dumb things like.
She is still out there
and thinks of you everyday.
With a mother's love in her heart.

I nod in concert with their thoughts.
I whisper sure or maybe.

But
I know inside of her heart.
it's something less than love.
yes for sure.
Something much less than love

“only” the lonely know (my special sign)

{=}

an incurable silence

the meaningless, wasted touch of a hand,
attached, directed by them from them
to them
a failed reassurance

a classroom, a stadium, cornfield or grove,
so many nutted fallen solitaries fallen to rot
midst a globe of trillions never noticed,
never missed

the silly conceptual that the lonely,
special unique, blessed with a curse,
a specialist status, “only” they afflicted;
with a ken that isolates and yet feels elevated -
oh! I am special

show me one, just one, human who doesn’t truly believe,
they are the onliest loneliest and you will vision
each and every
lonely person who
secret sighs and whose first thoughts are only:

god spare me one more day of being,
fearful of achieving
my very own knowing,
in the invisible place,
the incurable silence award,
reward of another purple heart,
“only” the lonely service ribbon,
my Cain marker

~my special sign~

Where do you write something you want someone to read
but you don't want them to see?
Almost a year ago, I did some pretty messed up things
and no, it was not grown up of me
and yes, I still feel guilty (at least a part of me does)
and no, I still don't think I "needed" to
However, to think you have done nothing wrong
is an outright lie

Is belittling someone a sign of love?
Is masking someone's voice a sign of affection?
Is closing the doors on things I was not ready to leave behind
a sign of your attention?

And no, that wasn't the end of it
And yes, I'd rather let you read between the lines
because even writing this in memory of things
that once were,
is giving you way too much of my time

Nonetheless, I do not hate you as much as I thought I had
I just have one question,
where do you believe it went wrong?

Could it have been the numerous times I warned you
that something is bound to go awry?
Maybe it was hidden between all the times
you were busy tweeting about how awful I was
while I begged for forgiveness from a problem
I did not create

I can only request one final thing,
take a moment for yourself to replay the words
that we once spoke to each other in your head
Analyze the seconds we spent together

Remember all the wasted parts of my life spent on
trying to earn your approval while you
continue to let everyone know
just how awful I was to you

I dare you, after all of this is done, to come back and
accuse me of being
"emotionally unavailable"

Fortunately for me, however,
I've come to terms with things that once kept me sinking
and I've found the things that keep me afloat

So for now, I bid this chapter of our lives
a soft, sincere and sweet goodbye

(P.S. You may have once had me
wrapped around your fingers, but if
I learned anything from you at all,
it's that I will always be stronger than
what I think I can't handle)

Are you ready?
Are you sure?

Then lean right in
and make him yours.

You're not ready?
You're not sure?

then tenderise your gentle touch
just a little bit more.

and perfect your kiss
that makes you his.

Until he wants you
no more.

Poetry by Kaydee.