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if I can't miss you, the least I can do is miss the way it felt to know that you were mine (even if you weren't, not really). I remember watching you fall apart, a familiar road of self destruction that you drove me down too many times to count. you were so devoid of life that I couldn't ever figure out what you felt was worth it. if you felt anything was worth it.

sometimes, when your fist would find a home tangled in my hair, with my body pressed against the mirror, our breaths fogging up the glass, I'd forget that your fragile heart felt no purpose.

it was so easy to lose myself in our clashing tongues and teeth because the distraction was easier than the realization. it was the bruises on my hips that told me how you felt. you told me that you loved me through your fingertips. through tight grips and shaky hands.

I lost my shirt in the backseat of your car one night because you couldn't wait to sneak into your brothers house. sometimes you would touch me like I was a porcelain doll but most nights it was a fast blur of disaster. like a look inside of your mind.

“we're okay, it's okay, we're okay, I'm okay,” I never really knew whether you breathed out those words for me or for yourself. something about false reassurance.

I once found a song you wrote on the back of a sloppy page of notes titled Why Does My Heart Feel For Her and Only Her?

it was the following night that I stopped feeling my heart when I found bold messy lines through the lyrics. with my lip between your teeth I could only think of what you wrote beside the crossed out title.

THERE IS NO HEART AT ALL
(in neither of us)
Its not my short legs,
Nor in my overgrown beard,
It's not the big nose
Or small pockets women fear.
It is the corny poem
For which I stand,
The kind of hopeful
Romanticism the women
Can't stand.
If is not in my furry kisses
Nor my nonsense of style,
It is the dork in my walk
That keeps them a mile,
I am a dude,
Unphenomenally,
Unphenomenal dude,
That's me.

I do not have the body
The women might want,
The kind where my bipeds
I'd flaunt,
I haven't the coin
To release the swag,
Hell I'm still playing
Nintendo 64, not much to brag!
My T.V. is till a big box,
I have no women,
I got loneliness on lock.
I'm just a dude,
Unphenomenally,
Unphenomenally dude,
That's me.

I'll finish this poem
With my last pathetic rhyme,
Maybe a chick will like it,
Like me this time!
I'll get a haircut to match
The style of now,
I'll become phenomenal,
I'll get there somehow,
But for now.....
Im just a dude,
Unphenomenally,
Unphenomenal dude...
That's me!
Thanks Maya.
Waking breath ghostly frozen, clang of ***-belly stove opening, cedar crackles good morning, sap sizzles, pops, melting.  Warmth finds children sleeping, humid air, mouth-breathing.  Smell of boy sweat and feet, young women ripely sweet.  

Cats purring, stirring, padding quiet down stairs, weave meowing through mom's legs.  Dented percolator burbles better days, snap of toast burned haze, molten mush bubbles burst, fade.  Birds early on the highway Paradise-seeking, time, flash-burned, fleeting. Cobalt jay mockingly complains, chickadee sings his own name, coyote wails, thin and plain.  

Children rise, sleep in their eyes, squabble over bathroom prize, eldest wins, click, locks herself in.  Hurry, hurry the bus is coming, ancient driver, annoyed and honking.  Brown-bag lunches crinkled running, feet slapping, seats squeaking, lungs hot and bursting.  Ride the dawn breaking, hearts aching for more than this, rural bliss.

Stop sign flashes caution, young lovers in the back seat, bodies in motion.  Stop, start, sway on down the highway. Engine mimics hot blood lust, accelerated diesel rush, nothing can stop us. You grab my knee - young, carefree.  Brakes sigh and hiss, sneak one last kiss. You mouth - meet me later, we'll sneak out, rush to a future we haven't got, ready or not.  

The old road at dusk, frog song accompanies us, bike wheels on the asphalt hum, forbidden moonlight run.  Feel your heartbeat on my spine, frantic drumming matching mine. Horned owl hoots, forlorn and bleak, a premonition we refuse to heed, reckless with need. In the clearing young love begins, forget-me-knots on burning skin.
Tell me I'm a loser
Tell me I'm not well in the head
Tell me I'm a horrible chooser
But let me tell you that if you lived in my shoes
You'd already be dead, you'll never know what I have gone through.
 Apr 2016 RIVIS WRITES
Wanderer
Rose petals like love letters crinkle around well loved edges
The sweet scent of their memory still saturates my senses
I miss you more than I could ever articulate
Each nerve ending longs for just a whisper, a touch
Occasionally I stumble across old recordings of your beautiful voice
Now only in dreams do I witness
Soft movements, tender touches
Waking with aches and pains that only you could ease
A well painted visage fits perfectly over the sadness
Aglow with sunlight and smile veneer seals solid with coarse tears
I keep hidden what I cannot hide
We are all hypocrites,
passionate on
crime, ***, and drama

We are all hypocrites,
building our
two-dimensional dioramas

We think fast,
our half-witted brains
conniving

We talk fast,
our foolproof tongues
praising

We love to hate others,
and bask in the glory
of their demise

We hate to love our brothers,
for all our speeches
are mem'rized

Stepping stones from naivety
Our vainglorious insanity
Romanticizing reality

The hand that
feeds us
is our enemy

When will this stop?

**iamthe_avatar ©2016
Note to self.
 Apr 2016 RIVIS WRITES
Sarah Q S
I am an instrument of love
Play me as a piano, and
Free the music within me.
Please,
I'm suffocating
Let me bleed
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