Sitting in my car, steeping in misery.
At the end of another lonely lunch.
Playing on my phone, I saw you.
I’m not sure what happened precisely then,
that made me hold out my hand so boldly.
Only, a feeling washing over me.
That I was losing you.
Your interest, maybe.
Even though I was still trying to deny,
the pull and the see from the get-go,
I knew. Under the push and doubt,
I liked you. And your interest in me.
Skirting along the lines of PC.
I knew when you posted that video.
Some girl shimmy-shaking. Not very well.
Oh, the curves...
I wanted you to verb mine.
Walked past her on the stage in my mind.
Decked-out in dakini tribal,
making it rain.
In your lap.
Every part of my life was hell then.
And anytime you said anything,
chills up the spine.
Alive.
I was immune that day.
High as a kite, yet without a clue,
how much higher we would be,
in just a few hours.
And when I left to drive home,
the exact second I turned my car on,
began the lyrics of an acoustic song I love.
And had never heard on the radio before.
*I found a line and then it grew
I found myself still thinking of you
I felt so empty and now I'm fine
but still it's burning when will you be mine*
Sometimes I wonder,
if I hadn’t left exactly then,
if I hadn’t heard that specific song,
keyed up at just the right time…
Maybe I wouldn’t have been even bolder.
Maybe we wouldn’t have ascended,
hand-in-hand into the stratosphere,
shotgunning pineal heartstrum.
I deleted our conversation history,
when he found my poetry page.
Not to deny it, but to save it from him.
Keep him from tainting it.
Not one sacred character.
But I remember most of it.
That’s the thing:
I remember you, as if,
part of you continues to exist,
inside of me.
*do you remember all the songs that I have wrote for you?
all the songs that I have wrote for you...*
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
Sitting in my car, steeping in misery.
At the end of another lonely lunch.
Playing on my phone, I saw you.
I’m not sure what happened precisely then,
that made me hold out my hand so boldly.
Only, a feeling washing over me.
That I was losing you.
Your interest, maybe.
Even though I was still trying to deny,
the pull and the see from the get-go,
I knew. Under the push and doubt,
I liked you. And your interest in me.
Skirting along the lines of PC.
I knew when you posted that video.
Some girl shimmy-shaking. Not very well.
Oh, the curves...
I wanted you to verb mine.
Walked past her on the stage in my mind.
Decked-out in dakini tribal,
making it rain.
In your lap.
Every part of my life was hell then.
And anytime you said anything,
chills up the spine.
Alive.
I was immune that day.
High as a kite, yet without a clue,
how much higher we would be,
in just a few hours.
And when I left to drive home,
the exact second I turned my car on,
began the lyrics of an acoustic song I love.
And had never heard on the radio before.
*I found a line and then it grew
I found myself still thinking of you
I felt so empty and now I'm fine
but still it's burning when will you be mine*
Sometimes I wonder,
if I hadn’t left exactly then,
if I hadn’t heard that specific song,
keyed up at just the right time…
Maybe I wouldn’t have been even bolder.
Maybe we wouldn’t have ascended,
hand-in-hand into the stratosphere,
shotgunning pineal heartstrum.
I deleted our conversation history,
when he found my poetry page.
Not to deny it, but to save it from him.
Keep him from tainting it.
Not one sacred character.
But I remember most of it.
That’s the thing:
I remember you, as if,
part of you continues to exist,
inside of me.
*do you remember all the songs that I have wrote for you?
all the songs that I have wrote for you...*
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