My arrogance takes many forms.
The smirk sliding across my face.
The unabashed eye contact across the table.
I've got weapons and no end in sight.
Peeling away your skin and reaping the fruits of my labor.
I'm always proud to know when I'm right,
except for the times when I wish I was wrong.

I don't even have to open my eyes to know when you're lying.

i was never one for the dramatics.
mostly, i just drank in the corner and watched the stage.
had the uppers and the droppers and the
speakers boomed all night in my ear.
i churned out lines left and right.
saw the virginal girls with filthy minds slip
out of their ******* and onto my lap-- that was all right.
they were good *****, i'll give them that.
i could have done without seeing their faces.
maybe that's cold.
**** it.

No girl in high school broke my heart
except for Alexis.

We weren't involved or anything.
I would run into her occasionally at parties
or in the hallway between classes.
Alexis was "that girl."
Alexis slept with your boyfriend
or girlfriend.
She slept around, sideways,
inside, upside down, and backwards.

Red hair, pearly whites, manicured nails,
she took care of herself.
Mostly because no one else would.

Senior year. Anatomy and Physiology. Mrs. Livingood.
We sat next to each other.
We were partners for every project.
Every day, Alexis would come into class
and I would see the look in her eye.
The same de-sensitized, drained emptiness.
Most girls giggled or gazed at the naked human form--
at least a remark or two.
My new friend seemed tired of skin,
panting,
beds,
the dark.

It wasn't until Spring that I saw an altercation.
Tyler, a senior himself, had been sleeping with Alexis.
At this point, I gave a deaf ear to the rumors,
but at 7:36 a.m. on the third Thursday in March,
I got out of my car to see Alexis being pushed out
of a green truck's passenger door.
She tumbled to the ground in her bra and *******
with scratches on her back and a "*****!"
crashing into her head.

I walked over to her, picked her up,
slammed the door on Tyler's ankle
and carried her to the bathroom.
I went to the band room, got some of my extra clothes
and brought them to her.
My red Adidas shorts hung off of her and my
"Tulsa Soccer Club" shirt had sleeves too long.
She cried into 2nd hour.

It was the most emotion I'd ever seen her show.
I think it was at that point I began to loathe society.
I hated the ****, where the girls looked empty in the eyes.
I hated the "lose-your-virginity-in-high-school-to-your-first-love" stereotype.
I hated my friends, who called her a ****.
I hated myself for not breaking in to her in time.
I hated every boy who climbed in a girl's window, and vice versa.
I hated that I couldn't change their minds.
I hated every person who slept with whoever I was going to end up with.
I hated the people I had slept with.
I hated the drugs.
I hated teenage romance.
I hated my age.

Alexis and I were never in like or love or lust
or whatever the hell.
Still, I took her on a date.
Dinner, coffee, comedy show, and a party.
We held hands-- mostly because I wanted her to know
that innocence again.
I didn't feel her up, I didn't kiss her, I didn't put my hand on her thigh.
I took her home and watched a movie with her family.
I didn't look when she changed clothes.
I hugged her goodbye and that was the end of it.
She told me I gave her the only respect she'd ever gotten.
I told her to say "*******" instead of doing it.
She smiled.

Today she's a single mom.

you ****** him, baby. you are.
that's all right.
i sleep alone but you do the same, even when he's with you.
dissonance carry on with her other lover.
forego "break" when hesitation will do.

we're paralyzed. i'm blindsided.
fear is fault.
he's at the top of his claim as spring wakes.
i'm begging love to bring quake.
struggle knows it's somber call.

then could we sleep late?
i'd love the sight of unclouded
daylight on an unblighted face.
so break latch, show me thirst
under sheet, hand-in-hand, outside bloom, inside burst.

i revel in your rhapsodic gaze.

your clothes are scattered on your floor.
my eyes glaze over at the thoughts that come.

which of these clothes did he take off of her?
did she lift them off for him?

i know he leaves you feeling ******.
you told me on the phone he came inside you.
my teeth grind.
eyes water,
lips tremble,
hands shake.
Mary Beth told me to be strong,
"you always take care of us, but this time lick your own wounds."

i'm too proud to say i feel it--
too proud to say i don't find sleep 'til 3 a.m..
all i think of in bed is you *******
for him.
i take a few hits of everclear,
write some ****** poetry,
and replay your laughter over and over
and over again.

Honey, if I gave a **** about your boyfriend
I would have given it by now.
Although, I will say I have my opinions
formed from a party,
a few conversations,
some comments,
and a whisper or two.
So from what I can tell, your boyfriend
checks his hair in the mirror.
is more worried about beer pong than
          how much you've had to drink.
speaks incorrect French.
whines like a little ***** when he goes
          without a "goodnight."
is safe, boring, beige paint.
boxes you up into the same routine.
is insecure.
would be paired with Napoleon Bonaparte
          in a wrestling duel.
is obsessed with his muscles instead of your laugh.
is making you miss your chance
                             to take a chance.

On a Wednesday night, I think of you.
You’re my grandmother’s type of girl.
Your kindness reminds me of my grandfather
and he would’ve told me to take good care of you.
“Be all for her,” he told me in a dream last night
when I drew myself up sketched out
next to you.

And I know that you’re a good girl.
I swear I do.
You’re in your bed, off your feet,
the cushion is empty next to me.
The ice melts in the malt and I salt
these pity wounds.

Honey, was I the wine when you wanted rye?
Baby, does my tongue lick a changing mind?
You pour from my fingers in a fall,
sky turns black out my window and kids scream.
You consume every corner of my mind,
but I don’t mind.

So be balanced, if that’s what you have to do,
but lean my way.
Thoughts of you comfort me ‘til break of day.