In good nature
or a manipulative experiment,
I continued to devour
your last leftovers
from boxes signed
in your name,
as average roommates do,
cluttering the sink
with such vile remains
under murky waters, stagnant
from congested plumbing,
all in hopes to one day
hear your voice.

In a universe of acquaintances,
My eyes happen to meet yours,
A smile forms from your frown,
As for a moment we recognize.
I watch you raise your hand
Like an alien lifting an extension,
Making a motion for friendship.
I follow your moments,
Afraid of breaking the norms
Set in place by confusing creatures,
Colliding two palms together:
Rough and brief.
Yet between the empty crevices
On our palms, wind blows through
Easily without obstacle.
So close, yet so distant,
And with that action, apparently
We are friends...
But I don't know you,
You don't know me.
We just share our obscure gestures,
Turn around, walk away,
Fulfilling a temporary satisfaction
That we are not alone.
I imagine this ritual strange
In the eyes of aliens,
Watching from a distance
Not as far as the space
Between our palms.

Seeds of gradual wisdom,
planted by one's own hand,
grow forth from the consistent,
loving watering, remembered
during the daily routines.
Yet, such insightful gestures
that produce beautiful forests
do not need to be clever
as misguided words designed to deceive;
do not need to be masked
with illustrious, falsely-fabricated photos;
and do not need to be blinded
from decorated lights that attract moths.

Rather than the various tropes
captivated and projected through
self-proclaimed prophets and mentors,
the humble observer endures
each inspiring, spoken lesson
as soft, ever present headaches,
innate as the erratic voice
that frustratingly reminds us
that we are meant to do good.

The chimp and the monkey
Were fighting rather funky
About who was the greater ape.
Along came a killer
A monstrous gorilla
And left both their mouths agape.

Then a talented gibbon
Wearing a blue ribbon
Played a fine hurdy-gurdy.
A local photographer
Insisted he recorded her
When he said “Watch the birdie!”

Monkey see, monkey do
Is a childish kind of game;
Like one-upsmanship and chicken
And going to prison,
It often turns out the same.
Hello, wake up and smell the smoke
You’re burning down your future.
Your school-ground behavior
Has gone rancid in flavor;
You boys need to pull yourselves together.

In their pugilistic oblivion
The warring simians
Might have fought until perdition.
Had not their mates protested
Their battle got arrested
Due to their marital conditions.

You see, even dumb creatures
Understand the features
And benefits of a nice residence.
What a sad kind of animal
Makes his home life pitiful
By setting a warlike precedence?

Monkey see, monkey do
Is a childish kind of game;
Like one-upsmanship and chicken
And going to prison,
It often turns out the same.
Hello, wake up and smell the smoke
You’re burning down your future.
Your school-ground behavior
Has gone rancid in flavor;
You boys need to pull yourselves together.

Stare at my feet--
Bite my tongue;
Habits learned when I was young.

Smile more--
Sit up taller;
Lessons taught when I was smaller.

Calm down--
Don't be so wild;
Words used to tame the child.

An otherwise normal day.
Sitting on the bus, in the back,
People watching as usual.
Coffee drunk, a day to attack.
I wanted to see what happened
So, I worked up a huge yawn.
The yawn went around the bus.
Once all did it, the yawn was gone.
I did it often, totally on purpose.
Just a thing I do to amuse us.

I saw in a movie a man stopped
Carefully looked up into the sky
It stopped the foot traffic that day
They looked up too, I had to try.
I stood on the corner the next day
Down on Twelfth and Main Street.
Firmly I stood in the madding crowd.
I looked up, and they did as well,
And things quickly got quite loud.
It was amazing how quickly it swelled.

The yawn thing works on the job
If you want to give it your own try.
It works on desk mates, bosses
And even on people passing by.
The looking up thing also works
But bosses come and get strong
And stop your foolish game by
Saying that you should move along.
They don’t know what you’re doing.
They just know it has to be wrong.

I'm thinking of how I return to the spot in the disco ball moonlight
and I'm catching my breath.
I always noticed people who are uptight
using humor as a mask.
This masquerade is filled with gowns of glitter
and tuxedos of black and white.
We dance, we chat, we drink our beloved manhattan and gin.
I'm more than excited to be at the masquerade,
Though I'm hit by past behavior of craziness and belting profanity.
I didn't mean it.
Just want everyone focused on my glitter so I now still wear a mask.
Can we still dance?
Can I have one more drink?
Can they learn to move forward?
Behavior is like a masquerade.
Dress to perfection, and don't drink too much or you'll end the night with humiliation and grief.
Play with your boa but don't chase if it doesn't catch his eye.
Don't lay a hand on her if she refuses a dance with you.
Be kind to the others at the ball.
Smile and whatever is hurting inside,
put a mask on it.
We don't need to ruin everyone's time at the wonderful masquerade.
Some may or may not
Forget.

You are totally ruined
From your head to your shoes
You’ve got a crippling case of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.
When you don’t get your way
That’s when you always choose
To sing your own arrangement of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

You’re alone most every night.
You call people up on the phone
Things just ain’t going right
But still you sit home alone.
Your life would be better
If you had somebody to love.
But nobody comes back again
Nobody you approve of.

You are totally ruined
From your head to your shoes
You’ve got a crippling case of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

You take them out to dinner
And they babble on and on.
You buy candy and flowers
But later they’re still gone.
It can’t be stuff about you
Because you are a dream.
It must be in who you choose
Not as sweet as they seem.

When you don’t get your way
That’s when you always choose
To sing your own arrangement of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

Would you know how to act
If everything was fine?
Or would you work overtime
To find a cause to whine?
You don’t do a thing in life
To change your mournful song.
Nothing good to sing about
Something’s always wrong.

You are totally ruined
From your head to your shoes
You’ve got a crippling case of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.
When you don’t get your way
That’s when you always choose
To sing your own arrangement of
The Spoiled Baby Blues.

Here's your letter.
Not the one you deserve, because I already left that one for you in the rain outside your mom's house.
But here's the letter you were wanting. The one that explains what I was feeling when I didn't have the courage to tell you.

When I left you in December, I meant it.
I no longer wanted to be in a relationship with you. I wanted to have you still in my life, but not like how we were. I craved your companionship. You craved so much more out of me. You craved my love, my happiness, my family, and my life. You craved everything I could no longer offer you. When things turned sour in December and January, I knew that we were not meant to last forever. I needed you in my life. You were my relief from anxiety. No one understood me and could help me like you did. I needed your friendship.

When we started to see each other again for coffee dates, you would calm me down from my anxiety by climbing ontop of me in the backseat of your mom's car. I never asked for that. I never even wanted that. But I could never resist your touch or the feeling of your soft lips and warm breath gliding across my skin. Your physical touch became the thing I craved most. I was addicted to the feeling of your skin on mine and I needed it more than the air we breathed.

When things escalated from meeting up for coffee, curled up in the backseat to dinner dates and seeing your friends again, I knew I was in too far. I knew there was no going back to being just friends. I knew that wasn't an option with you. I felt trapped into this relationship I didn't want. I stopped talking to everyone because I was embarrassed at the fact that I got myself back into this abusive relationship with you again. I was ashamed to tell people you were mine again.

That's when I reached out for help again. I reached out to my previous ex. He had always been there for me and I knew he would listen and try to help me without getting my parents involved. I needed away from you because you weren't making me feel the way you used to. I felt horrible. I was filled with negative thoughts about not being good enough, or being a "monster" and a "*****" because I was no longer happy with you. I was holding onto the hope that we would be back to the way we were before my grandfather died. But after countless nights of feeling suicidal, I knew I had to cut you out. You were a toxic menace in my life.

Then one night, everything was going okay. You were in a good mood and I was trying to suppress my thoughts when you took my phone and found the message that led to the final downfall. I had never seen you like that before and it is still to this day the thing that haunts me. You parked in an empty parking lot and sat on the asphalt looking the opposite direction of my car. I got out and tried to explain it to you that I wasn't happy like I was and I was done. But the only thing I remember getting out was the word "toxic."

You know what happened after that. You yelled at me that I was a ***** and a monster and that you could finally **** yourself now that you no longer had me to live for. You have to think about how this made me feel. The way you leaned in while I was driving down a windy road in the pitch black, tears in my eyes, making it impossible to see and yelling profanities and whispering threatening things in my ear. I was terrified. I was convinced you were going to hit me. I wanted you to hit me. In my thoughts I pleaded for you to hit me and to end it all. At one point, the suicidal thoughts were so loud, that I almost crashed my car with you in it. But I couldn't do that with someone else in the car. If I could just get you out of the car...

When we finally reach Michael's and you weren't sorry at all about some of the mean things you said, I vowed I would never do this to myself again. I would never put myself in this situation again. I was done with you. But I couldn't tell you that without having another meltdown like that one. So when I left you at Michael's, I called Dempsey crying and told her everything. She then told my parents before I was going to that night. When I got home they told me they were sending me off to my mom's because they were done dealing with me. I cried and begged them to help me and get me out. And as you know, that's when dad called you.

That's the story. I just laid everything out for you and if you still don't understand then you're just blind to your abusive behavior. I think about you everyday and the terrible things you did. I just hope that you don't do this to somebody else. Nobody deserves to be treated that way.

Hope this gives you the answers you were looking for.