Grief is the thing with feathers.
The thing in the rafters, dancing,
Just beyond my fingertips.
Grief is the thing in my bed.
The thing with strong arms
That refuse to hold me.
Grief is the thing with fur.
The thing winding itself about my legs,
Tripping me as I walk.
Grief is the thing in yellow.
The thing that's shining, mockingly,
Without keeping me warm.
Grief is the thing in the mirror.
The thing that looks like me,
But moves without me, still.

Lights off.
Hands fumble for hearts
Missing, slightly, every time.
Grabbing.
Groping.
Never quite hitting targets.
Bodies intertwined,
But not interlocked.
Lips slipping,
Landing on cheeks
And noses instead.
Eyes scan,
But never meet.
Attempting,
Not achieving.

My head is aching
And full of you
My heart's not quite breaking,
But God, it's painful, too.
When I think of what we've left unsaid
My stomach starts to turn
And with every memory of your bed
My eyes begin to burn.
My hands are at a loss for words
When they can't find yours to hold
And with your voice so long unheard
My ears feel lost and cold.
Each winter storm feels longer
Each summer, much less warm.
Each night the black is stronger
Each star has lost its form.
Mondays feel more blue,
Though every day is black and gray,
You took my rainbow with you
Every time you walk away.
I will my heart to forget
I will my mind to rest
I will my hands not to fret
And remind myself that,
For me, you may not be the best.

I’ve heard your same seven stories half a hundred times
And I must have told you at least 50 of mine,
Although it seems like you’ve forgotten.
When you asked if you were laying too close
I felt my heart drop,
Again.
Of all the times I’ve offered my heart
And you’ve stood and watched it fall apart
Somehow that was the worst one-
Laying in your bed I’ve grown to know,
Realizing that you've let me go.

One day you won't need love anymore
You'll wake up to your alarm, instead of love's siren song.
Your head will make decisions, not your heart.
You'll laugh and smile, carefree.
The sun will shine.
One day you won't need love anymore.
You won't want or be wanted.
The fall leaves will be a little less bright,
You'll find less warmth on a winter night.
One day you won't need love anymore.
The songs won't sound the same.
You'll have less joy, but still, less pain.
Your heart won't break, but it'll beat less too.
One day you won't need love anymore,
But my dear,
You'll wish you did.

I put my hand on your knee
Silently, with every laugh,
Hoping you'd catch my hint.
You offered me a ride
To my too close car,
Hoping I'd catch yours.
And because I get a sense of deja vu
Every time you're in the room,
I wasn't surprised when you kissed me.
"Thats enough for now".
You walked away,
With my heart wandering after you.

I am from New Jersey.
From the paradise of small towns
And the inferno of concrete jungles.
I am from truck tire playgrounds,
Porch Clubs, and the whistle
Of the Riverline.
I am from divorce.
From alcoholism and denial,
From broken doors and hearts.
I am from next to hell.
From pouring out full forties
For one's homies passed away.
From too many candlelight vigils
And sidewalks littered with fourth grade pictures.
I am from the garden state.
From cows, corn, and Clinton,
And tractors in the parking lot.
I am from tradition.
From pasta and seven fishes,
From "Mafiosa!" screamed in the streets
And "No WHOPs" pasted on storefronts.
I am from love.
From three parents and four siblings,
From six dogs and duplicate holidays,
And the smell of tulips and holly.