I went to a bar alone for the first time
And I drank French 75’s and Root Snaps
In my new leather jacket and old blue jeans
While a friend listened to me and shined glasses
I told him that I’m not so good at leaving things unfinished
I told him I was in love but we decided it was too hard
He held his glass into the light and said
"Melanie, that’s kind of a cop out"
To which I nodded and told him "David, I know"
But I also know falling out of love is hard
And doesn’t get easier the second time
So maybe I wanted a cop out
So maybe my heart wouldn’t have to break
And while I kept busy it could just ache quietly
For love lost on timing not once but twice
And not because of laziness or lack of.
Or it could be lost because of the alignment of the stars
(I think Mercury was in retrograde & I think understand that)
But not because whatever it was wasn’t totally ready
To be called love at all.
I would say I'm done writing poetry about you but lying is a sin and I'm trying to do less of that for karma purposes
It's a funny thing to be in love
and do nothing about it
other than acknowledge
the stupidity of your own heart.
(I hate writing about love)
Sunday I couldn’t leave my bed
I was heartbroken, preemptively.
Yesterday I told you I loved you
And you said that’s okay.
lately I find myself scrolling through facebooks
that belong to people who I
a, don't know and
b, are dead.
20 something is too young to die.
"See, here's the thing,
I don't think I give a ****.
Anways, can you pass me the creamer?"
Freckles dot my hands like constellations
but I don't think they understand
their resemblance to the little dipper.
Freckles don't have eyes you know.
I remember sitting on the school bus
attempting to untangle my new cats cradle
I feel like I'm always making knots,
even when it comes to you.
It's like I want to tangle the memories,
so I have a physical reason not to sort through them.
I never really got the point of that game anyways.