i peer at her on the quiet days black ink white paper a treasured sketch a gift which I'll never part with sometimes i think today is the day i will take the picture out of the frame read the message left behind it i haven't though so many of those days have passed and i've come to accept the reality i'll never do it i am not nearly as strong as all that
Category: poems
a kind of happiness
the day idly spent minding the steady tail twitch of my kit-kat clock
scrolling through
a photo of him grinning with a friend interrupted her afternoon of apathetic time wasting doom scrolling through political soundbites cartoons status updates announcing mostly the mundane and nestled between all of the nonsense there he was a snapshot he next to a gorgeous gal strands of his hair catching the wind eyes squinted against the sun smiling for the selfie and she was given the unwelcome reminder of the lost friendship the absence of being seen to the depths of her core by someone once considered Real and True making her also feel Real and True she didn't linger long the disconnect the indifference made this an easy pass good for him, living life... she thought remembering all the things she had wanted to do to explore to discover to talk over to dream about with him she kept swiping through knowing they only loved the idealized versions they had created of each other and that made it oh not so bad but damn if losing his companionship as a confidante didn't still Sting something Fierce
Electric
i see the glitter a glimpse into the eyes they are live wires shimmery specks of splendiferous shine fuzzing about the periphery of the pupils joyous crackles crinkling the corners happiness pure and present pouring abundantly out in a tiny grateful glance to be sighted and swallowed through such an ecstatic lens quickens the pulse i am dizzy and brought to much needed life
Unmuted
my love has always been quiet paw prints left new on freshly fallen snow shadowed cutouts upon the gauzy glittered mat the chill waft of the incoming storm-soaked wind cooling the beads of summer sweat on the shoulders of the worn the sizzle of the kindling feeding the small fire constant and dependable the gift subtle yet generous perhaps this is why i am flummoxed peace meets peace... and the world turns upside down the passion ensuing the blizzard brilliant and dangerous phenomenally blanketing all in crystalline splendor paw prints lost tenderly forgotten during kisses long urgent and soft the warmth of hearts colliding thunderous crackles the branches shaking to keep from roots dislodging as torrents pelt the peasant ground we splash in muddied puddles laughing in hysterics because why not your hand in mine flames flickering upward and outward silver slivers tinted white golden blue sparks splintering the darkness there is a blaze and we are the old the dying curling into smoke burning to ash ultimately rising anew my love has always been quiet until with you
July 3rd and I can’t sleep
I miss them all
despite the tears broken words spilling out into the vacuum of indifference guttural cries in the dark alone the cat dismayed at such overly dramatic displays of the Once Again coupled with the I'll Never Learn i do miss them not with the longing of what is lost forever nor the sentimentality of all the previous love's hazy rosy eyed gazes i miss the moments that were brand new sparkling gleaming like chrome before familiarity before we disappointed one another when we were unreal not of this realm this mortal plane no we were celestial beings odd outsiders crazy puzzle pieces fitting in a way quite unlike the others i miss the stars in our smiles i miss the way a small touch could set our skin on fire i miss the quiet breathing of sleep next to my awake the songs we hummed to the conversations during long rainy afternoons i miss the hops in our laughter every day being a better day because we were in it together i find i miss them most during the quiet nights my solitude, my haven the silence reminds me that i am alone so i miss them those who took my time, my space, my love, and nurtured it until it was no longer worth the effort yet i am made only that much more aware i miss the Me i always was in the beginning the most
ah
should have known better
fruit is always the sweetest
right before it rots
Misconception
I felt seen by you.
Sadly, I failed to notice
Just how blind you were.
Untrue/True
if you believe the stories
i am the breaker of hearts
the stealer of souls
the crusher of the dreams
carefully crafted in their deluded minds
i am the cruel
cold
indifferent
heartless
lilith
draining all livelihood
and joy
leaving a trail of
emotionally annihilated husks
in my wake
if they ever took a minute
to examine their reflection
perhaps they would see the truth of things
but i suppose
one cannot
look into a mirror
when they spend their time
sitting in the dark
i am not the one
to illuminate their surroundings
my light is my own
Speculating Cost
i met someone
with a quiet intensity
so very
excellent at small talk
with dry
hidden humor
much loved
by the neighborhood locals
no fault
could seemingly be found
so
much like a discriminating buyer
at a curio shop
i have been inspecting
dissecting
in the hopes of
protecting
any investment
i decide to put forth
i do not like
being this way
but i have
been subject to
so many instances of
Buyer’s Remorse
my heart’s wallet
cannot afford
another loss.
But Otherwise Fine 