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the innkeeper Aug 15
That nameless spark
The one that starts in your diaphragm
you think it’s your breath,
but it gets stuck

Chest—hot
Breath—ragged
Heart—taiko beat

But you turned away...

“Didn’t want to start something”
You said

“Smart for you, sad for me”
I said

...Incompatible, I rationalized

What to do now?

Did we dodge a bullet?

Would your woundedness have moved
Through me and left a mark?

Your hesitation has.

“Everyone is complicated”
You told me after you kissed my neck

Do I stay soft?

Stay open?

I didn’t know when you said “everyone”
you meant yourself
the innkeeper Jul 12
My heart is open and getting softer to
This unruly, textured, tender, layered existence

This isn’t new though

It’s always been a giant beating thing.

It beat for acceptance and praise and approval
As if those things were Love
As if those things sustained anything besides veneers

When my heart beat for anybody but myself
Kids, partners, parents, friends, strangers
It beat so loudly that it drowned out
The sounds of its own losses

This time and space forced me to be so
Unraveled
So broken open
That the only beating my heart did at first felt traitorous

Slowly, slowly when I had no reason to protect myself
No reason to deny my small self anything
Because there was nothing left to grasp for...
My heart turned to itself
the innkeeper Jun 30
The things we built were on a rickety scaffold
stretched as high and fast as our love
when we got to the top I wanted to cling to you
and look in your eyes
and tell you that I was scared.

I’m scared.

And your eyes are gone.

The scaffold has tumbled
and the pieces are shiny
and sharp
and broken
the innkeeper May 31
If I share with you what was going on for me,
Hope, the thing with feathers,
springs up in my chest
I know there is no room for it
despair is my alternate companion

Both are always present and vying for attention,
they both want to be fed

I am doing the work within myself to soothe the spaces
where each companion wants to land
to take space where it doesn’t fit

I cannot let hope touch down and root
So it rockets around in my fear
causing collateral physical damage
as I try to eradicate it with logic and self cruelty

I cannot let despair sink into my soul
So it is ever present in the air around me,
condensing with thoughts that drip
from the ceiling and leave stalactites,
sharp and threatening to fall and pierce
the innkeeper May 31
I find myself flooded, panting like I’m in labor
Birthing the tears and blood and anguish of loss
Trying to find air that doesn’t feel like it’s suffocating

Every breath feels like I’ve missed a step
And that hitch catches in my chest
The rest between the in-breath and the out stretches on
And lifetimes long I can see the futures
we could be dancing and breathing in together

The way my heart keeps beating is traitorous,
To burn and cut and shatter with each pulse
and yet keep beating for the next one
I exhale the air leaves my body in a weak stream
and a strangled whimper
ness Feb 19
happiness cannot be seen
through rose-tinted glasses
or with the naked eye
but mine sleeps next to me
and mine stays close to me
and their heartbeat beats in time
Dec 9, 2018, 3:29PM

inspired by a comic I was reading; I don’t remember which
- Apr 2016
You find patterns
in everything
and I am just beginning to notice this about you.

You watch documentaries,
and tell me all about them.

One was about
a nanny turned photographer
capturing strangers
mid-conversation-

I like your summaries
better than the stories themselves.

Someday, you, too
will take great photographs
and the world will know your name
before you're deceased.

I'm sure of it.

We walked through a field of glowing grass,
and you tried to touch each blade.

It began to rain,
I wiped a stray droplet onto your nose
and kissed your eyelids.

You laughed at me,
tried to annoy me,
hold my hand in different ways,
push me
off the sidewalk-

I stepped in dog ****
but you insisted
it was human...

I listened to you spin your story
and was reminded of how lovely
it is to peer inside your mind-

My glasses broke tonight
and yet I haven't seen this clearly
in what feels like forever.

I'll tell you "let's do this,"
this time, without any liquor
if it means I'll prove my devotion
to you
and this time
we have together.

I don't care what you call me,
or who knows I exist,

as long as you keep kissing me
with as much electricity
as I felt when I first met you.
Thank you.
Tee Murray Sep 2014
I can't get enough
You are becoming the air I breathe
The water I drink
The food I eat
My sustainment

But you'll be gone soon
I'll suffocate
Die of thirst
Starve
My oblivion.
A love poem. My lover left tonight,  not me...but for her career. And although it will be for the better, I wish she didn't have to go. What will I do without her? And it won't be for just a few days or weeks...it'll be almost 10 months before I can hold her again...oh the agony

— The End —