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Molly Gaschott Nov 2018
I loved a man
You had his eyes
And you spoke his language
And we built you
Out of resilience
Molly Gaschott Oct 2018
you could be
my favorite morning kiss
alarm clock breath
upon my neck

and those eyes
slow passion
of waking lids
to hazel floods
eastern morning sun
shine shine
golden greens blues greys

my very favorite eyes
to roll into
safely passing
into the daytime
Molly Gaschott Aug 2018
My deepest Love
you were oceans deep
your waves crushing my eardrums
night after night
my moon moving you like fierce
winds through matted hair
sweaty cheeks

I can still devour your salt
eyes stinging
submerging myself through your rocky corridors

Love, we were fearless.
Love, we were ignorant to any possibility of an end.
My Love,
we were a picture book fairytale of weathering the greatest storm.

I am forever grateful for our lessons
on how to love the ocean
while still valuing my need to wane
Molly Gaschott Aug 2018
In the end
we tasted like
bitter morning breath
hungover sour liquor

On brisk summer mornings
waking up
rolling over on to my right side
eyes opening slowly
only to find
we are lonely

my heart aching
that you'll be gone forever
I lost you long ago

But that's okay
i know better now
than to expect
a gentle knock
on my tender
heart walls
but rather to acknowledge
any sort of love
will come from
those walls being barreled down
My heart ravished
and left like roadkill

I'll build them
out of brick this time
because i think for a while
the straw gave me hope
that the people who came in
would not be as bad
as my experiences

i'm beginning
to believe
that in the end
you were still good
you were delicious
in the way that
didn't nourish me
rather you left blankets
of overeaten guilt on my

When did this become about you?

and rather than screaming about
how much i loved you
i lied, gasping, spitting,
how dare you make me walk
back into that house
tears dripping down
your rough freckled cheeks
a spare bedroom full of promises
a backyard
with a swing
made intentionally
for me

I've been down on my knees
most days
writhing in self-doubt
wondering if letting you go
was a clean slate of my selfishness
or a righteous act of self-love

in any case
that empty bedroom
brought me wavering fantasies of
my lifeless body in the bathtub
wishing you hadn't
had the strength
to break the latch
on that bathroom door
i stopped going to that place
in fear that i'd like it too much there

oh, how we've tortured
one another
spoon feeding each other
just so we'd stay
crazy enough
content enough
to remain in insanity together

In the end
at least we died together
only to be reborn
in a distant hell
of bitter morning breath
each day
reliving the worst days
of our own tortured divorce
Molly Gaschott Dec 2016
She said to me, over the phone
She wanted to see other people
I thought, Well then, look around. They're everywhere
Said that she was confused...
I thought, Darling, join the club
24 years old, Mid-life crisis
Nowadays hits you when you're young
I hung up, She called back, I hung up again
The process had already started
At least it happened quick
I swear, I died inside that night
My friend, he called
I didn't mention a thing
The last thing he said was, Be sound
I contemplated an awful thing, I hate to admit
I just thought those would be such appropriate last words
But I'm still here
And small
So small.. How could this struggle seem so big?
So big...
While the palms in the breeze still blow green
And the waves in the sea still absolute blue
But the horror
Every single thing I see is a reminder of her
Never thought I'd curse the day I met her
And since she's gone and wouldn't hear
Who would care? What good would that do?
But I'm still here
So I imagine in a month...or 12
I'll be somewhere having a drink
Laughing at a stupid joke
Or just another stupid thing
And I can see myself stopping short
Drifting out of the present
****** by the undertow and pulled out deep
And there I am, standing
Wet grass and white headstones all in rows
And in the distance there's one, off on its own
So I stop, kneel
My new home...
And I picture a sober awakening, a re-entry into this little bar scene
Sip my drink til the ice hits my lip
Order another round
And that's it for now
Never been too good at happy endings...
Molly Gaschott Nov 2015
Resolution lies in our hands
but these hands are
Dropping bombs
and taking lives

Step back. Look UP.
how senseless it all seems
in my little apartment on main street


I feel a crumbling soul beneath me;
an angry mother, a scared caregiver.
trying to tell us something


Can you hear her?
Can you be silent for just one moment?
two at the most!

And listen

She is sick
She is tired
She is gazing at us
through ocean eyes

glazed with disappointment
yes thats you,

and she knows
all too well,
she is taking her final breaths
Molly Gaschott Apr 2013
nicotine invoked dreams of sunsets and pathways that will lead you, they will not deny you. i’ve made friends worth my wisdom and freedom, some who have run screaming.

but i’m here waiting. you witnessed me babble on about dinosaurs and rage about capitalism. you brushed my hair when my mind has been sick from withdrawals. my body shaking from a craving.

and now what do i do… when all i crave is you?
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