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Roberta Day Jul 2013
I’m tired of silences,
lingering and vapid,
exhausting our connection waiting
to be founded by our lips too busy
sipping distilled influences so
that we might have the courage to
give ourselves away
Promise me your gaze
by showing me some truth
and swear on your last sip you've
never been this exposed
Confide in me your current thoughts,
despite the dancing static generating
from the nerves bubbling your insides
Let's spill our guts rather these beverages
and soak up our regurgitations
with dry expression, absorbing every
last bit of dejected rejections
Speak erratically and emphatically;
my preference is your face bolded
with a gleam in your eyes,
quotationed brow, and when you blink,
I'll drink your experiences, glean your aimless
journey, until I'm intoxicated by your
imperfect perspective
Roberta Day Jun 2013
I do not think
this year has for me
the only thing I’ve wished for
since the start of 2013 —
  someone to miss more than
peach scented memories,
  someone to call before I go to sleep
to hear the soothing sound of rhythmic breath,
so sweet, someone to share my skin and my
most personal of thoughts,
  someone I want comfort from while I weep,
and as open as the book I just bought,
  someone drawn to me as I am to them
with the invisible line our brains fill in,
  someone whose presence is as delightful,
as a burning vanilla candle,
and as alluring as a draft of cold air
among sweltering heat
  I do not think
this “someone” is
someone I’ll ever meet
Roberta Day May 2013
Tomorrow always
brings news that dampens my mood,
save day for haiku
Roberta Day May 2013
I remember at the party
as blurry as it all was
when you kissed me through my tears
and startled me
I was angry
angry because I took the blame
for the tickets we all received
and you kissed me
I was too blinded by *** to see how romantic
and how sweet your gesture of sympathy
really was, objectively;
internally I was not ready, for reasons
unclear even to myself
(to sum,
I was young and dumb
and frightened of affection)
but even now, a year or two later
I think about your eyes, sparkling
and wired, intimidating and intriguing;
I think about your posture, your wit,
your cyclist thighs,
and wonder why I didn’t think
you were a catch of a guy
I **** at titles.
Roberta Day May 2013
I never thought the two of us would be on this plane
Here we are, diving headfirst into a charade done in vain
Loosely tidying up encounters we remark back on with scoffs

Fun times they were, those sudden acts of lust
If this be another, you will have demolished the last of my trust
There’s nothing worse than the feeling of being used
Manipulate me again, I’ll find another muse
And what we have just done will be another addition to our plain of “fun”

Something consistent is all I desire
Even consistently fondling carries some kind of longing acquired over time
To be longed for, to be desired…

I’m oh so tired of being devoid of the wondrous sensation that fills one with absolute joy…
to where one cannot think straight or hold responsible their foolish acts because it’s all in the name of love

That single word holds so much power, so much meaning, yet is tossed around left and right by those who deserve nothing of it and leave those who possess sincerity to suffer

But there is a lesser form of love; an equally complicated form that has touched me often, yet leaves the ground beneath my feet shaken only temporarily

… except for those Irish eyes…

Now, you have been here before, capturing my eye
Bluntly you can see the spark, yet I’m amazed to know you noticed and didn’t completely fade from my sight
I seem to humor you with my timid presence while you humor me with your strange persona
Typically not a perfect pair, but ultimately compatible

You never cease to amaze me
The words that drip from the ink you hold
to the beautiful arrangements of notes your fingers unfold
Your passion for such an art that moves others in various ways intrigues me
I’m a bit envious, really
I wish I could possess the commitment for something I adored

And the way you convey your thoughts on paper sends shivers down my spine
You were always someone I admired, though I never imagined you wanted to chance your time
Things have changed, we too have evolved
Maybe now nature will make the call
And set the sword in stone for the two of us to pull free
You seem careless now, but what does it hurt to try?

Try me.
Wrote this over two years ago. Never had a title for it so I named it after whom it was inspired.
Roberta Day Apr 2013
Contacting a friend,
who doesn't reply back; you
feel like a dead-weight.
Roberta Day Apr 2013
I relate to everyone I meet
even though I have not walked in their shoes
I dig deep and connect via raised brows
and sincere solemnity

If a tear is shed, I may shed one too
but after the moment has passed
My reaction time is set to delay
so intake is at the highest of caliber

I feel like I’ve forgotten how to convey
the fleeting feelings fired from fraying fibers
residing in mushy tissue

Understanding is not my issue
   Being definite is
I mold and shift, like a contortionist
and cease to untwist when coming undone
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