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Mariah May 9
I get so nervous when I love something
And I put it down
And I leave it
Thinking that I must be leaving for good
Instead of merely
enjoying something else

I worry that I will never have anything forever
And I wonder
If that is why I love things so deeply
When I have them

I love them so hard
I tear them apart
So they don't do it to me first

But they do
We do
We tear each other apart

So yes
I leave them after
With regret and remorseful
But satisfied

But if it's special enough
I find myself back at it's door
Knocking
Hat in hand

Wondering if it's been worried I
Also wouldn't return

I worry when it opens the door
They will slam it
Before I can say I am sorry I left
And how much I missed it

I worry I am the only one
Who thinks about the death of love
While in the middle of it

But it does too
It always does too

And in my fear
Its so loud that
I can never hear
It whispering to me
I'll miss you
And I'll see you when you get back
I am worried. I am rusty. I am nervous. I return.
MicMag Dec 2018
My thoughts run sprints
My mind won't slow down
But when pen's put to paper
No phrases can be found

I knock on their door
But the words won't come out
Locked in their room
They just laze and pout

Inspiration's still here
But my muse has gone mute
Its stubborn vow of silence
Renders my thoughts moot

It's not mere writer's block
I'd say it's more radical
My poetry has decided
To take a sabbatical
Irate Watcher Sep 2014
The router's a strobe light;
I can't connect.
The microwave fritzed,
I can't heat.
The circuit shut;
guess no electricity.
Ayo no technology.
Let's talk ancient
philosophy,
NOT whether
Beyonce is a feminist.
Let's have a bonfire
and roast meat
cause none of us
were vegan
before this.
Let's light candles
in the streets.
Pray batteries die
on LCD screens.
Cause we were alchemists
before technology,
the versed probing
the multiverse,
thrilled,
lighting our golden
embroidery on life.
Now were just bored.
Coy toys to tied strings,
webs that touch
everything,
but the space between.
Declaring Sunday a sabbatical from LCD screens.

— The End —