Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lost Left Shoe Mar 2014
Apart, we stood on the wings of unparalleled airplanes
With a hunger to grow a pair of wings for ourselves
Together we stood on the island of a shifting ocean
Broken backgrounds shattering preconceived notions
Wrapping each other’s arms around healing scars,
We opened them back up
So the rest could massage soft words into the wounds
Turning our hearts into good soil
Where we could start to re-grow the parts of ourselves
Left black and cracked by a burning past

We stepped out from behind the masks packed firmly in our suitcases
Learning to love ourselves and each other
For the vices and vulnerabilities we’d hidden for so long
We forged a chain where the weakest link
Was the one that wouldn’t let another bear their burden
And we used that chain to lift each other above our worries
Because perspective was the one thing we were lacking.
When we stood on the cliff hills looking over the ocean,
Perspective was the only thing we had
The rest was swept up in sea foam carried by rolling meadow breezes,
Soft rainfall on window panes,
Shared smiles and the laughter of fast friends

As we unclasped our hands to turn towards home
The sadness we held was for the time until we would meet again
The tears that streamed forth were to show that
Noone would be forgotten
The months we spent together will be etched on our hearts
Waiting for a reunion to read back the memories
We stand on the doorway to tomorrow
The taste of long-gone whiskey on our lips
Tempting to take the breath out of the final hours
Until the winds beckon us back to Belfast
My legs grow restless as I await your return
I need to see you all again
Lost Left Shoe Jan 2014
There isn’t a standardized, introductory text
Regarding relations with the opposite ***
As the title suggests I’m here to help
To give you the insight I’ve uncovered so far

Let’s start with the ******* the older guys told you in middle school
“The “yawn-and-stretch” technique is sure-fire and will never fail.
Don’t bother actually getting to know the girl.
Your first kiss is far more important.
Do not call someone until at least three days after you get their number.
You will seem desperate, and they will run away, literally.
Always treat the person you’re after like ****
They’ll see you as confident and superior and like you even more.”
If you’re someone that encourages young hearts
With this crap
Please do us all a favor
And go take a long walk off a short pier with cement shoes

Moving on, we see the root of bad romantics
We are taught, from birth, to take what we want
By any means necessary
But it seems the difference between earning and theft
Has become a bit blurred to the point of
Prince Charming forcing himself upon Sleeping Beauty
Burglarizing the contents of her personal space in order to find himself a princess
The Beast held Beauty like a cage to a canary
Unleashing her to the dribble drabble of tiny tea cups
Until she sought solace in Stockholm
My frustration with Walt Disney, I hope, is apparent

You are not the Knight in Shining Armor
she’s looking for
You are not her jailer, her savior, or her insatiable love-maker
unless she’s into that kind of thing
In a relationship, a man fills one of three roles:
1. Someone to make her life a little better in the time you’re together
2. Showing her joy after heartbreak, and that love springs eternal
3. The ******* that makes her appreciate the nice guys
And if you fit into that third category…*******.

Lastly, in order to help you truly be a man in your relationship,
I’ve got some words of wisdom
-Be like a blanket right out of the dryer
When you wrap your arms around her,
Let her get lost in the daydream
Warm. Soft. Safe.
-Don’t take anything you can’t give back.
Just because she gives you a piece of her heart
Doesn’t mean you can take the whole thing.
She might be made of golden opportunities,
But don’t go trying to melt them down to make a pocket watch
-Explore the space between you
Run your palms across
The rough spots and the smooth spots
Try to figure out why they’re there
-Gaze down into every crevice
And stargaze up from every hilltop
You have miles to traverse
But you know it will all be worth it
When all it takes to shoot lightning bolts up your spine
Is a smile in pitch-black room

Like I said, there is no textbook, guide or pamphlet
That will give you direct answers to your greatest questions
But here’s a compass to point you
In the vicinity of the area where you might find
The right ballpark of behavior
Lost Left Shoe Jan 2014
My heart was pieced together like a patchwork
Just like the rest of me
Made from parts of ticking time-bombs
Stitched and stapled together in a mass of voracious viscosity
Violently vilifying the way
The thread streams me seamlessly
from one person to the next
Each feeling they will be the center-ring circus master
Until they realize
The sewing needle is simply passing through their square

The seamstress ran out of string with me
Resulting in relapse burlap fistfights along the edges
Left me searching for salvation each time
The bells chimed to open the day
Left me in the company of
Misshapen shadows hidden along broken back hallways
Back-and-forth handshakes to make sure
The other was still there

Night after night, staring at your creation in the window
But not during the day because monsters like the dark
It’s not that it’s easier to sneak and scare
I just know the faces of disgust and terror
And I don’t need that right now
When that’s the same face I want to rip from the mirror

That night should have been stormy
For all the things that I did
To your masterpiece
Pulling at strands like they were nooses around my neck
Each time like removing an iron bar from my cage
Until the burlap sack flew apart flapping like vultures
Leaving nothing but the sheep in scarecrow’s clothing
Unraveling my sense of time until the clock struck
3 times an echo

Once for the creation of your abhorrent abomination
Twice for your meticulous sense of the grotesque
And three times for putting a soul you saw unhappy
Into a prison so much worse


When I was on your bench
My words came choppily and broken
Because I couldn't finish a sentence
Without second guessing everything
Waiting for a punishment after every word
So I wouldn't interrupt
The beginning of your sentence
With the middle of mine

You put my heart together piece by piece
Cross-stitching over the years of my childhood
Connecting a pair of glasses with a two-tone sense of humor
Building a bridge between arms wide open and a shotgun blast
But now the words flow fluidly
Because now my thoughts are seamless
Put together skillfully like a seamstress’s caress
No more anticipating the end before the beginning
Now that I've come full circle

— The End —