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 Apr 2014 lorenzo
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 Apr 2014 lorenzo
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I tell my mother that I love her through
The same gritted teeth that I whispered
"I hope you leave" through.
(It sounds quite the same).

I feel like the pieces of my skin are
Ripping off, one by one, and I swear
I cannot wait seven years for
My body to forget that you once touched it.
I wish there was a faster way to
Sever your physical memory that is sketched
Bone-deep, but seven years is the
Price I pay for letting you too far in.

You could excordinate from my
Goose-bumped chest and hold it, beating,
In your shaking hands and I know you'd
Swear on your great-grandfather's grave that
You loved every inch of me.
But you only loved the chest you destroyed
And a heart can only be an anchor
To those who lost themselves between
A false-lover's sheets.

The one who watched me tremble as
Words spilt from my mouth is the
One who made me choke them back down.
I picked up my death wish and I
Placed it in my pocket, hoping to God
You'd someday forget the look in my eyes
When I told you I'd never make it
Through the past year. But you were
The one who begged me to try and
You were the one who begged me to die.
I swear to God I remember you saying
That I kept you up at night, but now
I'd be lucky if I could fall asleep.

I wonder now what has kept me here;
So desperately victim to the sound of your voice.
I hope to pack bags full of anything but your
Memory, but everything just seems to admonish
And I can't forget the way your hair
Reminds me of the hot sand that
Listened more intently to every displeasure
You ever caused. I must leave that place behind,
And yet it calls me towards it everytime
I want to scream. I still imagine the
Look on your face, I still imagine the way
Your voice quivered as you said
"Please, just don't hurt yourself.
Please, just promise me."
And I remember the way you begged
Me to go against my every promise. So
Now I am packing bags;
I will not be the fool that chose to stay here.
 Apr 2014 lorenzo
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Rewind to the first day you
Asked me to marry you.
It was raining, I wanted to kiss you.

December of our first year married;
You woke me up every morning
To watch the snow fall.
I rolled my eyes as you
Watched like a child.
You looked at me the same way.

Our first Christmas together was
About the same. It was
Only two years prior to our marriage
And you bought me a necklace.
I wore it every day
Until the day you left.
I hope the river likes jewelry
As much as I did.

Fast forward to our
Second spring together.
You pulled the car over on the side
Of the road to pick a wild flower.
We were already running late.
We always seemed to do
Everything too late.

Fourteen and a half days later
You told me you wanted me
To buy a nice dress for myself
And meet you at a restaurant.
I told you no,
I had work in the morning.
You drank every night
For a month after that.

You sang to my small unborn baby
Bump every night before bed.
Our next trip to see our baby's face
Did not go as planned.
You never could get me out of that
Black dress after her wake
And your eyes matched it
Perfectly every day after.

Fast forward to the day before you
Asked me to sign the divorce papers.
We made love.
I cried and said "this isn't working."
You said "I know."

I could hear you cry from the
Other side of the bed
And your hands felt miles away.
I remembered the first time
You touched me this way,
Long before your hands
Were calloused.
We were Hell bent on doing it
And I could hear the same lack
Of hesitation in your voice when
You said you had to leave.

Flash back to the first time I told you
I loved you.
I said it too soon. You said it back,
I didn't expect you to.

You left your ring on the
Coffee table our last night.
Suddenly I missed the rings
Of condensation marking the
Table every night and the
Clanking noise your ring
Finger made against the beer
Bottles after every fight.

I wish I could have been enough
To stop you from drinking.
I remember when you drove away.
"Turn around and beg me to stay.
Turn around and beg me to stay."
You didn't turn around and
I did not stay.

I passed the garden we were
Married in on my way to the court
House to sign the final papers.
A couple was leaving, newly wedded.
I find irony in that.

A few years later I passed you
On the street.
It was snowing, you had that same
Look in your eyes.
You smiled at me, a distant
"I'm sorry," smile.
I nodded, but I could not smile back.
You see, I never stopped loving you,
But I was never sorry for
Letting you leave.

I still find your cuff links buried
In my jewelry box some days.  
This is the day I watched the
Locket you gave me
Sink to the bottom of a river.
I think you could find my
Hope lying there, too.

Remember the time you kissed me
In the rain?
First slow and timid, then
Passionate as if it was the
Last time we would ever kiss again.
I apologized thirteen times that day
For things that had
Not happened yet.

I think a piece of me knew all along
I would have to let you leave.
The day I said good bye
The words burned my lips
Like acid exactly like they did that day.
I said "I'm sorry."

Seven hours staring at empty
Beer bottles as you
Slam them on the table.
In fact, it's been months since
You slammed anything but beers
And I think that is where
We started to fall apart.

Three years since you left and
I cannot bring myself to love another.
I bet she is beautiful and
Kind and loving and
I bet she does not cause you to
Drink until you cannot feel.
Three years later and I realize now that
I will love you until I die.

— The End —