Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
Caffeine, nicotine, and you.
Three things that make me happy.
Three things that give me chills.
Three things that I hate.
Three things that I want to destroy.
Three things that won’t stop hurting me.
Three things that I can’t live without.
Three things that I laugh with.
Three things that keep me sane.
Three things that push me to close to the edge.
Three things that pull me close where it’s warm.
Three things that make everything else seem alright.
Three things that wreak havoc to my psyche.
Three things that always listen.
Three things that always leave.
Three things that define me.
Caffeine, nicotine, and you.
But I must quit you.
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
Your blind eyes hurt
The sparkle in mine does not reflect

You say any and everything simply
My words are loaded, ripe with secret meanings

You flirt
I sabotage

Since forever you have needed me
And I, you, in very different ways

So for the rest of time
We are trapped in this dance

And then we stop
And we stare

I have that one moment
When the sparkle is there

I see your mind comprehend those loaded words
And suddenly we need each other in the same ways

Then everything starts moving again
And I’m back where I started

Your hurtful eyes
and mine, sparkling
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
the mortgage is late
the electric bill’s due
all i can do is keep breathing

she didn’t take her pill
the waiting is gonna **** me
all i can do is keep breathing

with or without her
weighing pros and cons
all i can do is keep breathing

but the breathing gets harder
it gets shallower, less satisfying

the cigarettes are catching up
and the air won’t taste the same

all i can do is keep breathing

until you can’t
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
I.

“The sky looks ******.”
your nose is upturned,
your mouth is open,
your eyes are wide.

I notice the first rain drop
sit on your bottom lip
of your mouth, agape.

You lick it off.

II.

The first tear
rolls down slow
waiting for me to notice.

I see it as you turn
and run for your car.
You blast the stereo.

It’s our song.

III.

For every imperfection;
your different colored eyes
and wavering faith

There are perfections;
The back of your neck
and ornate vocabulary.

I love balance.

IV.

One time you were told,
“No one loves just once,
there are many great loves.”

And you said,
“I have many great loves,
they just fit in one person.”

You convinced yourself.

V.

After three drinks
you tell me you’re
feeling honest.

I ask what your
first thought was
when you saw me.

“I won’t have to die alone.”
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
Every single moment she's telling me something.


With a shift of her weight that makes the leather under her sigh,


With a tilt of her head that better allows me to see the variations of green in her eyes,


With a shake of her glass that sends ice tumbling into what remains of a caramel colored drink,


With an adjustment of her skirt to hide (or draw attention to) her endless legs,


With the cool confident way she talks which isn't much like talking but more like dancing with words,


With the slow definite way she takes a drag from the Marlboro draped effortlessly in her hand as she sits under a sign reading "no fume",


With the way she responds to my "smoking kills" comment by saying she finds comfort in death,


With the amused, not annoyed, smirk I get when she catches my eyes travel from her face toward her pristine cleavage.


Every single moment she's telling me something. But what?
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
The smoke hits the back of my throat hard.
The usually THC tinged blood coursing through my veins normally prevents this.
Usually, it hits smooth, like water against glass.
Now it is hard and hits like sandpaper upon sandpaper.
I learn to like the pain and seek it.
I come to know it.

You say, “Promise not to promise anymore.”
I say, “I will take the chain off the door.”

She walks away
Saying what she always says
In vain

But
She walks away
Saying what she always says
In Vain
Like always

The smoke that comes from the fire that comes from the pocket
And it doesn’t hurt
I walk too
The smoke feels smooth as my feet against this pavement
I miss the hurt, the familiar hurt
So I decided to seek it

I find you
You my love are not gone

I say, “I’ll never say, I’ll never love again.”
You say, “You don’t say a lot of things.”

I press my body on her
And kiss her where mind meets body
Like never

But
I press my body on her like
And kiss her where mind meets body
Like never

She places her arm length between us
Turns her head away quickly
She says, “My bones are shifting in my skin.
And you my love are gone.”
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
she's running toward me.
full on. not stopping. this is it.
the kiss to end all kisses.
***** "the titanic".
***** "the notebook".
we're the real deal.
should I run to meet her? should I stay and let her come to me? wow, I have a lot of responsibility in this.
she's getting closer.
god, I missed her.
I hate space. we didn't need space. I just need to get to her. hold her. that would make this moment perfect.
that and rain. rain would help. make this seem more cinematic.
I digress.
BAM.
she's here. in my arms. en mi brazos.
warm to touch. sweet to smell.
her face is buried in my chest. she's breathing heavy, trying to inhale me.
we stand still, filing these moments in our minds.
she lifts her head and looks in me.
her eyelids are red and puffy, remnants of tears linger. but her eyes are deep. clear, blue, and deep.
I know what she's thinking.
she's thinking what I’m thinking.
fireworks. explosions. BOOM! impact.
she's is summarizing her entire speech into this one action.
her "I’m sorry”‘s.
her "I missed you”‘s.
especially her "I love you”‘s.
all summarized in one pleasant forceful kiss.
this kiss feels amazing yet it feels new.
this kiss isn't a "we should have ***/peer pressure" kiss where both our minds are elsewhere.
nor is it "hello/goodbye" peck.
this kiss is real. it has passion and fire. It is deep and selfless. It’s an expression not a formality.
don't get me wrong; it's not a gross sloppy "get a room" kiss. there is no groping or petting, heavy or otherwise.
it is indescribable.
it feels like it lasts second and years at the same time.
it is so good yet bad because I know I will never feel that without having to feel great pain first.
losing her, even if it was only for a small period of time, was unbearable.
when she eventually did pull away I tried to think of something appropriate and clever.
I thought and though and then, "I love you" came out.
that’s it? that’s all I could come up with? I could do better.
but then I realized.
I couldn't.
there was nothing better.
I loved her more than I could put into any other words.
yeah I ripped off a Natasha Beddingfeild song but it was true.
I couldn't think of anything catchy or witty.
just I love you.
simple and easy and most of all, true.
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
The drink is a trap
Your light kiss is a tease

You are not attractive
You are not attractive
I say to myself
I snap out of it

And snap back in again
Your body doesn’t do it for me
Your words don’t travel far

You look like you need a compliment
You seek them like a fish in a little tank
      swimming to the surface for food

I pinch myself not to wake up but to
black out
My face is red

I know what’s happening
I may have lost control but I hover above
watching

My body does the talking and says the right things to the wrong person
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
waiting for you to notice
waiting for you to change
waiting for you to stop
waiting for you to go

waiting for you to wonder
waiting for you to care
waiting for you to say it
waiting for you to stand up

waiting for you to move
waiting for you to understand
waiting for you to let go
waiting for you to hold tighter

waiting for you to run away
waiting for you to finally cry
waiting for you to break down
waiting for you to smile

waiting for you to come around
waiting for you to decide
waiting for you to get out of the car
waiting for you to wrap around a tree

waiting for you to sit down
waiting for you to throw it out the window
waiting for you to lay it out on the table
waiting for you to move away

waiting for you to get another drink
waiting for you to fall to pieces
waiting for you to brush yourself off
waiting for you to be a victim of love

waiting for you to come home
waiting for you to grab my hand
waiting for you to stare me down
waiting for you to turn your back

waiting for the comfortable silence
waiting for the final blow
waiting for your pledge of devotion
waiting for your crossed fingers
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
I still walk with my religion
As I walk away from you
I still walk away with my religion
despite you

despite the waves of your oceanic body splashing on my world

despite that twitch you get, wired on anger and ready to blow

despite the same bolt that travels my spine at the thought of you in pain

despite the bittersweet way your voice sings as you yell blasphemies

despite the phantom burn i get after our lips part

despite the feeling of my hands climbing up your legs, straight and high

despite the confused grip of your body on mine with aggressive nails

despite the way my mind seeks out air away from yours

despite the smeared plastic of your cup hurled with lust and fear

despite my minds eye finding every possible lucy in my sky with diamonds

despite the fire searing in my blood as he finds you from afar

despite the way you sometimes refuse to turn me on and I instead just turn

despite the way you think your bigger than Jesus, bigger than cigarettes

despite the way I can never shake my feelings of aloneness

despite my churning gut when your promises always fall through like a polar bear on ice

despite all the visions I have of our wrinkled hands interlocked

despite the rose colored glasses your presence always generates

despite the suicidal eyes as I bluff, turning the ****

because you always question the one true most basic feeling I have all confidence in

all I can say,
“I love you.
Don’t ever ******* question that.”
Jamie Santoro Oct 2010
She makes the call wondering if its their last
He answers overwhelmed with hopeful possibilities

She lets him in pointing him toward her room
He walks buzzing with anxiety and excitement

She closes the door nervous, trying to hide it
He sits on her bed staring at her with as loving a gaze as he could muster

She sits next to him but not to close
He readies his story, irons out the points he wants to make

She tries not to drown in the silence
He struggles with his words, fighting to fit them into logical sentences.

She looks away ready to ask him to leave
He says, “I love you. Can’t that be enough?”

She looks back at him wondering how it got to this place
He places his hand on her shoulder

She sits and focuses on his hand, this physical connection
He almost wishes he never said it, almost

She says, “Why did you come here if that’s all you were gonna say?”
He almost answers but stops and thinks about it

She rises frustrated with his lack of response
He says, “Because it’s the truth.”

She replies with a quick, “What?”
He says, “I love you and that’s all that matters.”

She stares, stunned at his definite tone and eloquent words
He stands a few inches taller all the while without taking his eyes off of her

She shutters feeling his heartbeat in their close proximity
He doesn’t touch her but they are close enough to sync their breathing

She almost pulls away but his magnetism keeps her from doing anything
He drags his fingers up her arm and caresses her face

She finally moves and holds his hand to her face, taking in his scent
He rests his head on hers and presses his face into her hair surrounding himself with her.

They kiss.
They forgive.

— The End —