Damned

I didn’t want to talk to you.
Receiving your messages before, I shrugged them off.
Curtly. Succinctly.
And I owed you nothing. Not a damn thing. I didn’t have to call you back.

But I’m not built that way.
I’ve spent far too many nights reaching out to empty bottles and lonely walls echoing my wretched breathing and the staggering pace of a sickened heartbeat.
I’ve played the part of functioning human while all were none the wiser to the inner cataclysm that just seemed to be on a never ending loop of emotional implosion.

No. I didn’t want to talk to you.
But I didn’t want you to be lost in that all too familiar gaping void of isolated solitude, either.

Begrudgingly, I did what I had promised myself I would never do again.

I let you back in.

Gods curse my caring heart.

Dominoes

The ones I loved
The ones I wanted
The ones I lusted

All could give a
flying fig
for me

a history of

chasing men
who had been
nothing but
back alley
beggar boys
sneakily dressed
in much
fancier clothing
just
(faintly squint)
a tiny bit
too large
for their
diminutive
frames

all whilst
my woman’s heart,
devotion,
and
hunger
had remained
far more feeling,
staunch,
and ravenous

And like dominoes

I kept queuing
them up

Each had
been
placed
and
balanced,
precariously
forming that tenuous line
of repeated
fowls and
heartaches.

the fickleness
of the foolish

a test of my
patience

Until I
came to realize
this was
far more trouble
than it
was worth

weary sigh
head tilted
my finger gave
the smallest
poke
to the very first
pip

and

The quiet rhythmic
clacking

soothed

the
*click
*click
*click
of each
falling into the
other

closure,

leaving
a flawless
mess…
a pile
of ivory rectangles
pieces
with no
discernible match

Gingerly,
with care
and reverence

I placed each tenderly
within the case

This was a game
I no longer
cared to play.

Final Vice

I rebuilt myself
I kept the good
Dropped
*an anvil thud*
everything else

Almost.

I gave up dairy
and the smokes
the bourbon
at late night dives
the wine
while vacantly
watching
the telly
pisssssing
away
time

No more sweets
snacks
mid-afternoon donuts
as breakfast
and lunch
sometimes dinner

stopped talking
to the sociopathic
ex
listening
to their
false promises
drenched in
candy covered
shit

The Fair weather
friends
Whom I’ve bled for
While they never
broke a sweat
for
me

I let go
of my past
the mistakes
the self-loathing
the doubts
the hammering anxiety
at the weakening
bark
of my being

I did all of this.

*improvement*
*progress*
*growth*

But there’s still you.

lightly
Heavily
subtly
Obviously

Tearing it all apart.

Not Bitter… much

If I had a dollar
For every time you said
“I’m Sorry”
“Guess I’m Just An Asshole”
“I Never Meant To Hurt”
“I’ll Leave You Alone”
“I’ll Never Bother You Again”

Well.
I guess I could take myself
For a rather extravagant meal
Somewhere posh
With cloth napkins
and well dressed
waiters

I’d enjoy every bite
of
many things rich
succulent
and deliciously fattening

My belly
happy and full
I’d leave a
generous tip
and smile with contentment
Knowing
That somewhere
you were choking on your own bullshit
Wasting away to the Nothing
You always knew you were.

I Haven’t Written In A While (A Love Poem For D)

Well, I have.
In my head.

But you don’t know this
Unless you could creep around
In the Squoosh
And Mush
Attempting to make sense
of the scattered bits
of mangled paragraphs
half-finished words
let alone
mismanaged punctuation.

Make your way through
my glow worm caves
dangling luminescent
thoughts
pooling into the collective
goop
which I will eventually
strain into something
formative.
Maybe.

But I’ve “written”.
There are essays
and strong opinions expressed vehemently
sharply jutting out
haphazardly
here and there.
Gardens of prose
jagged brambles
and the sickly sweet scent of dying lilies
intertwined
making a mess…

The bees have been happier.

I suppose
I just wanted you to know
That I have been keeping up

And every thought of you
Incites inspiration

You make me want
to bring order
to the chaos
mend and organize
my fragmented parts
and pieces

I am
motivated to
light a trail
leading out of my darkness
exposing
the shards and
skin slicing edges
(though I can’t imagine
not getting a small cut
*bound to happen*
especially if you’re
walking barefoot)
so you can better make your way
deeper into my soul

There I can tend and tame
the prickly burrs
Not an easy task
But
Better for the bees
who will be keeping busy
with the new buds that have blossomed

Because of you.

For Daidria

“Your glance scatters seeds.
It planted a tree.
I talk
Because you shake its leaves.”

From Letter of Testimony Coda by Octavio Paz

The Musician

I found
old correspondence
from some years ago
between my former
self and
you,
the always on the road
wielder of stringed instrument
and debaucherous exploits

Former paramour
partner in deviance
and infatuation
What a pair…
Addicted, lustful
heathens
we were
Two moths
Two flames
Destruction was
inevitable,
Of course

But still.

Bemused, I
shook my head
Reading the
To and From
Slightly aggravated
by my own desire and loathing
Your seemingly sincere
yet
apathetic apologies

“You may be crazy, but I am weak. And that’s worse. I don’t know what else to say.”

Clearly.

Our combustion
while not spontaneous
still surprises me
Yet,
After some years
the flames
have all but turned to
simmering, dying embers
in a growing
pile of ash
which along with
the charred
and disintegrating
bits
have been
flying and
flaking
away
to somewhere
not here

But I wonder.

Nowadays,
have your messages
of remorse
to Her
Become any better
Than what they
once were?

Maybe…
you should invest
in a fire extinguisher.