His name is the aftertaste
Of slowly sipped red wine
Trying to forget the feeling
Of being in love and vulnerable
Knowing your heart
Could shatter into a thousand pieces
At the mercy of a few words

His touch is old love renewed
Soft and dangerous
The kind of thrill that makes you nostalgic
A thousand heartbreaks
Dug up and re-brewed

His lips taste as bitter as old love
And as sweet as the memories
That with it came along
And gently they kiss you
like the way he’d hold fragile glass
Determined to not press too firmly
Causing you to shatter in his grasp

He’s the impossible kind of love
That never forgets you
no matter how long
or far
or stubborn
or dumb

He’s the kind of drunk
That’s hangs over the next morning
And pounds at your head
With memories of relentless love
Hoping you’ll find him in your bed

I wonder why
all the poems I write
Are composed at
the mercy of lovers

And why my lovers
can't be the green grass
that peaks out of
melting snowbanks
in early spring

Or the first sip
of coffee at 8 a.m.
on a mellow Saturday morning
in a cafe next to the lake.

Why do we choose
to rest our weary hearts
on things we can't depend on
When we know that the grass
will appear every spring
and we can sip our coffee
and the sun will rise
and the lake will be full
and so will our hearts

If only we requested
simple things to thrive
We could sip coffee with lovers
Next to the lake
At 8 a.m.
And not feel such pain.

It makes me sick to think
that  I am sitting at my desk
with tears welling in my eyes
trying to compose
something beautiful to describe
how you put knots in my stomach
in the worst way.
Thinking to myself,
maybe if I make it sound pretty
something beautiful will come out of this.

But you're just a pretty face
with a jet black heart
and I've been telling myself
for way too long
that playing hard to get
will make you a dependable person
When evidently,
I don't need you to be devoted
I need you to be gone.

In the springtime
I go outside my house
And breathe in the stale rain
That fell the night before
when I was in bed with you
And it almost feels like I'm in
California by the sea

I can feel the breeze
Cold and haunting me
I wish I could get away to California
By the sea
Where I don't have to fall asleep
next to boys I've known
for far too long
That know how to get what they want
I doubt I'll ever get there
And maybe my front porch step
is as close as I'll get

All I know is that
I love the smell of rain
It helps me forget.