"lockable" poems
It was a smile
it was up-all-nights
It was inside jokes
It was pinky promises
It was never ending talks
About religion
About god
all that **** we're never allowed to give an opinion on
It was a three word sentence
It was hand holds in the cinema
It was kisses in the bathroom
Or any where with a lockable door
It was cheesy texts
And cheesier phone calls
Then it was goodbye
It was time difference
It was Skype
It was guyish needs
And girlish give-ins
It was more lust
less love
It was stupid arguments
It was picking fights
Just to feel something
Other than
numb
It was a hard decision
It was "for the best"?
It was unwanted mornings
It was sleepless nights
It was puffy eyes
It was no one will love me again
It was I still miss you
It was pain
Now it's fear
Of what was
All over again.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
He was bent over
almost in half
bent over a pool table
concentrating on the next play
but there were no *****
on the table
just a body
dressed in gray sweatpants
a holey shirt, and only one shoe
The pool cue was chalked with blood
but his hands were steady
Crack
Splintering wood against bone
fractures symphonic ally
in tune with ancient jukebox greats
warbling the hurts
of somebody done someone wrong
but I don't want a piece of that...
that which has spread someone
who never meant anything to me
across the green of the pool table
trying to punt individual pieces of them
into six different holes
I'm shadowing myself in the corner
next to the jukebox
but his eyes find mine and I'm surprised
his are Blue
like an ocean
like a cloudless sky
like a sapphire under the sun
like a fire burning too hot
like deep frozen ice
His seriously kissable sensual lips
tip enticingly upwards
in my general direction
asking... imaging
He with you?
asking but not believing
you with him?
Mutely, I wither beneath the notice
and nod with a shake of my head
I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm not here
But here I am being scrutinized
from a different angle
In front of me
he's standing, tracking my gaze
to the non action at the pool table
now over, there is a new game in play
but he didn't ante in
as he found a new game
Me
and the stakes are high!
A finger runs lightly down my cheek
across my collarbone and down the V
of my deeply cut T shirt
skimming knuckles across the slopes
of barely there maturity
down the inside of my arm to my wrist
to the palm of my hand
twining into my numb fingers
raising them to press a open mouthed kiss
to my white knuckles
with a promise of
I know where you live
Out the door, alone, across the parking lot
and into the car I own
he's watching
waiting for me to turn my back on him
and he's got it
he'll find me
I realize as I close a door
that has little hope
and less lockable appeal
that he does indeed now know
where I live
He won't forget
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
Heart is the door
which opens wide,
and
Anger is the lock
who trying to lock,
never
ever
got
to. Y
S. E
U. K
C. e
C. L h
E s O t
E a. V. s
D, E i
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 8:13 AM UTC
Living
In
Fear
Every day.
_________________________________________________________________
Continually, my heart does stutter.
My head is full of all this painful clutter.
I wish that I could draw the blinds or pull down a lockable shutter.
I know that they are waiting, in the shadows. Waiting to pounce.
What they're not aware of is that my wish is their wish too.
The doctor may look at his watch, a time he will announce. My dream will become a reality and their wish will become true.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC