"unkindnesses" poems
You want me to let you in?
To call off the guards?
To let down the walls?
You,
So passionately,
want me to
stop fighting
so I will.
I will fall violently,
unadulteratedly
& freely
in love with you.
Just like you want me to.
And you'll lie in my bed all day,
while I try on eight different
dresses for my cousin's wedding
And when you leave,
I'll watch my skin shrink
as I lie
paralyzed
in my bathtub,
day dreaming
about the two small freckles
under the left corner
of your bottom lip
And the first time we argue
& you spend three whole days
angrily ignoring my calls,
I'll chain smoke
until my throat burns
And when you
finally decide
to show up at my door
with a vanilla latte
and apologetic eyes,
I will melt
pathetically
into your collarbones
and all down your spine
And then we will sit
Indian style
across from each other
on my kitchen floor
& you'll tell me in
excruciating
detail all your past lovers'
infidelities and unkindnesses
that led you to fight with me
And that will be it
That will be
the exact moment
when I will know,
without a doubt
that I am
completely & entirely
******
And I will cry into
your neck,
knowing for sure
that from then on
even the most passive,
nonspecific
mention of your name
will make my stomach float up
into my chest
& jolt back down
into my abdomen
like I'm falling
from the highest point
on a roller coaster
And no amount of
poetry,
whiskey,
midnight drives,
nicotine,
house shows
or therapy
will make it stop
or even distract
my soul from it for
a ******* split second
Because
once I allow myself
to love,
I love until I break &
then I keep on loving
until I'm nothing
And I just don't know
if your conscience
is strong enough
to carry the weight
of my shattered heart
So...
tell me Hazel Eyes,
just how bad
you actually want me
to pick up that phone
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
‘Why’ yawps and whines in the corridor, dim
lights paving ceilings to greater unkindnesses;
Greater unknowns fester in cigarette smoke,
And always in dwindling moonlight . What do you
Suppose of yourself? Is it to be, or not
Until men in hats set your sad sky aflame?
The sunset stains you, you’re frittered and worn,
Deluged in the spirits of seventeen.
The night unties the laces of school kids
And you lie in your idle sheets of euphoria
To ignore, or simply not to know.
Where did you go
When you said you don’t know, in sheets shrouding school kids
and their shoelaces all soaked with the sap
Of seventeen, sunset coloured in daylight
Beckoned by men in hats asking rudely of
Scathed suppositions and how they might sound
When the moon is seen blushing in thieving late hours
Catching cigarettes with fading lungs in its glow,
And the greater unknowns which prey on us all;
At the end of poorly lit corridors, asking why.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC