I kissed him intentionally
to bruise him
I wanted my scent to seep into
his skin
as he departed the morning after
I wanted him to remember me
like he selfishly
left his blackened odor all over
my body

I reeked of him

And every time I tried to scrub
this false love and empty
memories
off the walls of my skin
the thought of his touch
has all these feelings rushing back

Take me away from here to a place where
No - one knows us.
I'll pay for your coffee when you forget your money.

The only flat that we could afford
Would be above a cafe with chipped
White painted windowsills and cold stone floors.

We'd hide under duvets eating toast and you'd
Nestle against me; whispering in the darkness.
Your feet would be icy and we'd
Fall asleep to the sound of
The rain.

There's no - one else I'd rather be with,
No other company I desire
Besides yours.
The others are false and faded,
You are timeless to me.

I'd read to you in the evenings and
Steadily you'd unravel,
Stop hiding.
You'd kiss my forehead and
Mend the cracks
In my mind.

We'd grow old together, you and I.

Red is your color, never blue or gold.
My finish is never met with hollers or cheers, simply silence.
And not of the reverent sort, the sort of clammy, piteous, and overbearing silence.
Not the quiet that is shared in the company of friends or lovers. Never that.
My place on the podium will only raise me a foot or two.
From where I am standing the stars seems so **** far.
My "Participant" ribbon lies crumpled in-between my fingers.
And the ever present "I'm so sorry, good try" is meted out with each conciliatory apology.
But this isn't the first time, and I know it won't be the last.
That'll I will take second place in this race.
But really, how could I ever really want to win,
When I can barely get people to acknowledge me.
It would be a miracle if they started to cheer.
Did I mention I don't believe in miracles?

Everyone grows up learning to lie.
They fill in the spaces where we can't find the words.
They substitute for the stories we never made.
They shield those we love from all the hurt in the world.
So I guess I don't feel too bad about living a few lies.
Despite the wounds they left never really healing over.
I could blame him and her for them, but what is the point.
They happened, there they are on my skin, for all to see.
No use in tears, those won't change anything.
But the best I can do is grit my teeth and bear it.
The time for strength will be for later.
And I wouldn't look back if I was stronger,
But then again Orpheus was just a man too.
So call me a pillar of salt, or a push over.
But I lost, and it hurts.
I finished last again, and I think that adage might have more truth to it than I thought.

Sometimes I whisper my secrets to the ceiling.
Only when the lights are off,
And the fan is spinning.
The fan is very nosey.
I think he is a German spy.
Or maybe I'm the German spy,
And that's what my secrets are all about.
No one will ever know.
Except,
Of course,
For the ceiling.