"and my heart,
which is very big,
I promise it is very large,
a monster of sorts,
takes it all in—
all in comes the fury of love.”
-Anne Sexton*

strong jaw, tight lipped,
strawberry candy wrappers
littered all over,
i sit and wait for you to come home.
the creak, and the pace of your
feet as they cross the floor.
I'm tempted to reach out and grab your ankles
where they peak from
the tops of your socks.
shoes off, jeans to the floor,
i want you to know you're safe from me,
because while the closet has skeletons
and there are monsters under the bed,
i am the anger-love child, i am the
passion-hate child, i am the child of
a recycled metaphor, a scribbled tired song
who wouldn't dare let those eyes drop
to the floor