it’s in between stations
on the 9:32 train out of the city
studying windows for facets of urban legacy
forcing my thoughts away from you
and the streaks in your hair which decide
your new future
a safe transformation
removing every bad thing that’s come your way

I can’t say you’re the one that got away
when I never had you to begin with
this is the ending where beginnings and middles
are of no value
for surrounding the way you smiled
and laughed when I said something witty
were the tone deaf words
shattering the wonder
where the “someone else” you find
is the first and possibly the last
where you don’t need to fall in love again

a few photos are enough
to declare this vision you always wanted
from the way his arms find you
and the way you relax into them

how maybe he takes you to bars where the music isn’t too loud
and the drinks are affordable
you can share everything with him and only him
each secret you’ve been dying to share

if I exist even as an afterthought
in the pages which don’t need revisiting
only the close of a chapter unattached to the narrative
if I ever told you you were perfect
it may have been a mistake
I can’t pretend those are original words
and I’m the first one to love you
I can’t pretend I’m the story that will become timeless
and you can’t pretend you’ll read any of this
since every poem you heard from me
whether or not you truly loved it
it always had the potential to break you
there was a sense of staying power
and you simply wanted out

with that came the "once upon a time" you
wished would come to life
safe in its innocence
never needing to be questioned

when the train finds its destination
and sends me off into the night
it could be the final page
the ambiguous ending
to a story which never began

they say it's when you're not looking
that you find
someone

they waltz into your life
in romanticized, Hollywood fashion
inspiration for the ages

but then there are those
who wait and then
continue to wait

they hold out their hands
for wondrous prospects
gleaming with safe confidence

they think about their friends
who just got married
and the couples moving in together

how one second there's an ocean of people
followed by a startling realization
they've all found what they're looking for

the necessity to mingle
and match on Bumble
carefully disparages personality

this clock which likes
to tick only in
the throes of danger

to settle on the assumption
you're missing something
or simply everything

to stand by as
this motion picture is supposed to begin
and quietly cry for pressure's release

it's inside these walls
of lifeless patience
where the skin around you
weeps to itself
the magic of internal allure
sleeps until it's summoned to life

her words shatter inside his ears
like carefully dropped bombs
he waits for the cacophony
to die down
before he realizes what was actually said

her choice of words feels
practiced and perfected
like a prepared speech
suggesting this was not an impulsive move
but a carefully planned attack

and in that instant everything dies
every kiss goodbye
every drunken laugh
every ****** impulse
every Saturday morning
naked and alive
every "I love you"

it's like the way we imagine death
where your entire life flashes before your eyes
but this time it's an entire life shared
and there was a time before
and now there must be a time after

before he can collect any words of his own
she walks away
he was not given the same time to prepare

she's heard them all before
beautiful
****
gorgeous
smokin'
perfect 10
so



pretty



this vocabulary filtered
through nameless voices
springs into routine
like the obligation
of starting and ending

she sees this beauty that acts as a constant reminder
accentuated by perfect lighting
and mascara capable of hiding every bag
under each eye

the community of star struck boys
who slide their smiles into her peripheral view
saying all the right things they've learned through practice
******* her with their hungry eyes

they wear the gentleman's charm
and aim to sweep her off her feet
where she can glow in the spotlight she deserves
fed the endless affection they assume she craves

in the description of perfect lips
and an incredible ***
*******
and nice hips
categories in bullet point dialogue
meant to be locked away in male camaraderie

she realizes this beauty
stealing the gaze of well-intentioned wolves
exposed only to the surface
filling in the rest as they please

in this 3AM wake
when the marriage of cold sweat to empty sheets
is joined by old exhaust
a bruised and battered life
held together by a broken back
unable to lift out of this godless night

when sleep is the dream to wish upon
and escape the reckless regret
of beautiful things which have drifted into past tense
a forbidden place to venture to

when sunlight rinses over skin
humming the fire entrance
so simple it could be forgotten
as the rush of absent love finds mental security
to stay indefinitely
only ignored when lower back aches
seep into the cognitive forefront

in the endless silence
setting a permanent tone
for a helpless day
it's a moment of contemplation
to decide if this should become routine
or a mold to be broken
where every crack unravels new territory
emphatic potential unafraid to come alive

moving between stations
with newfound aesthetic in every window
strangers take seats and lock themselves
in their headphones

tickets are checked in the mundane gloom
of Mondays
beautiful faces stare into the seats before them
exposing their gaze as hushed uncertainty
silent in the prospect of arrival

when overhead lights flicker
darkness is delayed by illuminating smartphones
providing soft-spoken information
of news headlines and Snapchat stories

hands slightly quiver as Penn Station
takes collective precedence
cups of slightly cold coffee
rise with unflinching confidence

pages of poetic conscience
lower their standards
and admit they've overstayed
their welcome
taking shelter in backpacks

strangers disperse into confinements
of populated territory
their energy birthed in the helpless framework
of time clenching its withered fist

the moment you realize your age
is not a number but a consistency
a constant reminder of all the things you've done
sometimes detached from all the things you've said

all the girls you didn't talk to
all the opportunities you passed on
thinking there'll be a better one along the way
a picture frozen in a mirror
with slight changes to your past faces
though ultimately the same boyish look
improved with the occasional ****** hair

it's the halo that hovers above you
to force comparisons with the more successful people your age
who settle into marriages
just as they settle into careers
who are in second or third or even fourth homes removed from their parents’ house
who can complain about all these “adult” responsibilities
as their eyes blaze with the thrill of being young

it’s falling into the middle of the ocean
without arms or legs
and knowing this single breath
may need to be held longer than you’d like

it stays with you like weather to an assigned season
a painting that can be examined for flaws
and surprises you by being perfect
though it’s a perfection everyone but you can see
and you should accept it at face value

it’s a story that one day can be the end of a joke
finely tuned with the perspective of advanced years

it’s an easy way to feel sorry for yourself
to indulge your insecurities
and dissect the content
of every facet of your character

it's that last day of summer
when back porches and lukewarm beer
are the solace needed

it’s the knowledge that every single yesterday has already left
and you didn’t have time to say goodbye
now there are a million tomorrows
waiting for you to say something