Giant bowl of pasta in my lap
Such moments of passion, enthusiasm
So glad to walk out the door.

But ****.
Its those small moments, that make you miss
I know you feel it too.

Crippling, crippling
You said it was.
Happy small moments
But the moments could not and did not
Sustain me
I wrote a thousand poems, you read
Almost them all
And no matter what I tried to do with my art
My words, I couldn't make us work.

A girlfriend looked deep in  my eyes last night
In between sips of red wine
And she said: "You have been here for 9 months. You are a BABY. A newborn baby."
I wish I wasn't so ******* myself.

I spent 9 months trying to make it work
I spent 9 months digging my hands into the earth
Saying and whispering
Maybe this time, maybe now
On days where we had no plans
Or I did not hear from you
My life felt less livable.

I couldn't do it anymore
I couldn't continue to bake and create
Be my best self
With the misery of knowing this was going no where
You could.
You wanted to.
To just keep a piece of me
Even if it was just a little
But I walked out the door
Finally.

I wish I could tie up all of my feelings in a string
Of ribbons, bows, woes
Make sense of them all and release them into the sky
I know I will so deeply thank myself in time.

Tough lovin'
I've known the truth all along
But I needed to rewrite it a bit
I felt so thrown away, so forgotten
I know you must
I know you must
I know you must

What does it ******* matter.
So I run through the hail
I lipstick my face
I paint my hair blonde as the moon
Silver like the hail and ice outside
I burn and I roast
Rising above what we could never be.

Talking over wine, hours and hours
Of relating, philosophizing
My life is so ******* beautiful.

I know you will be there
In your little suit, a smile on your face
Chipper, your face red from the night before
It kills me that my friends have so little good to say
About you
About us.

But I wave goodbye to it all
Like a princess bride
Professional, kind, distant
We will be friends in time
But mama's gotta get back out there
Mama has too much to do
Mama has to grow out of infancy.

You would place your hand on my stomach
As you made love to me
Fantasizing, you would say
Intoxicating to dream
But I look those dreams
Your dreams
In the face

And I wash them away
I light a fire to them
Rising above the flames.