you can help me move that dresser out of your place
and into mine
the chest freezer can remain
just a while longer
weighted
with all the frozen meals
prepped months before
for our then
bright and splendid
future
This Tuesday maybe
I can swing by
toss a few more of my belongings
into some of my reusable
grocery bags
and you can watch me
brows scrunched
over your piercing blues
sadly?
with confusion?
regretfully?
with relief?
This Tuesday maybe
we can make idle small talk
while I keep my eyes
averted from yours
focusing only
on the task at hand
erasing my previous presence
from your home
one item at a time
I'll awkwardly joke
now you have your space again
and neither of us
will find the heart
to laugh
This Tuesday maybe
we'll want to give
or receive
a reassuring hug
a tender kiss
promises
that we can find a way
to make this work
anything
to make it hurt
somewhat less
but
we won't.
Not for the lack of
genuine want.
No.
Because lies do not suit us
and what remains
of our love
would never
deign to
lie.
Category: Relationships
The Biggest Blip
I've been thinking about them
their smiles
their eyes
their objectification
of what lie between my thighs
their clamoring
attempts to climb back into a womb
didn't matter how
or to whom
They
were famished
me
always an easy meal
enticing
succulent
almost always
filling
I, the sacrifice,
resignedly unwilling
They
devoured my softness -
bit and chew
the flesh of my
promise
themselves...
pledging fealty
to the warmth
in which they plunged deep
hoping to find meaning
in every thrust
screaming loud
to deaf gods
no one heard them
no one felt them
no one held them ...
in the end
and I loved them.
I did.
the handful
the collective They
who cross my mind.
though a singular
is present
every time.
it is Him.
Always Him.
It's Never Not Him.
The storms and sunshine
which we wrought
but jesusfuckchrist
the times we fought
Our sparks setting the
attempts at a garden
on fire
simultaneously watering
the fertile grounds
of desire
We were always too much
and also
Never enough
We were magnificence
turned inside out
distorted
brilliant
hideous
rough
my skin itches
jumps
his grin
earnest and true
the gray in his greens and blues
the cloudy gaze
of his jealousy
and need
to possess
me
those late nights
together in his room
the line up into my hips
being traced so gently by his fingertips
a curved silhouette
against the gleam of the moon
I was only ever a prize to be won
an object to be owned
a warm body
for a lust
which was never satiated
I was the banquet
in which he fed
his unyielding hunger
in attempts to be sated
I miss Him
the most
when I am feeling
Unwanted and
Alone.
Dysfunctional love
feels better
than none at all
I think about them
The collective They
and the Him
within
I wonder
if at all
they
(all of them
but mostly)
he
ever
thinks of me
one more for the road
you appeared in the hazy fog of a dream my heart believed the dim imagining my mind knew better saw clearly we were not, in fact, sitting on your bed laughing, smiling, catching up with one another this was not reality only fabricated figments my subconscious gave you a large apartment with art furniture and a mess you were in the middle of cleaning you goofed about in efforts to elicit a giggle it worked you plopped down next to me face contrite voice earnest and then you said "i suppose i owe you an apology" even deep in my slumbered state i forgave you my words measured and melancholic, ruefully resigned "oh love, i never wanted an apology. i wanted change." i stood i stooped i gave a whisper of a kiss upon the top of your head and woke up
Commiseration
We were both lost and broken And had given up hope when we met one another Tequila told the truth As we conversed in that booth and got to know more of the other The more we chose to share Of life and love being unfair The closer we soon became The bar lights gleamed bright What to do with the end of our night Both of us the lonely same We ended up falling tipsy into bed But became better friends instead and it's been oh so nice You've since asked what of him I've missed Was it the way he and I kissed His heat melting my ice? Was it his smile or his charm the ease in which he disarmed my defenses - one two three? The way he unmasked my disguise sturdy shovels for eyes digging down to the deep of me... I gave it thought, honest and true I'd not want to lie to you my newest cohort in loss I tried to put into words The tumbled thoughts which occurred And all I could say was - "The ease in which we spoke the stupid silly jokes I miss his sad rueful grin. The way he made me feel Seen, accepted, and real My qualities and my sins... I miss how he made me believe in forgiveness and reprieve That I had been absolved. But mostly, I miss my friend I miss what could have been How we could have evolved." With commiseration you gave a sigh No more talk for tonight Quietly we took our leave I can't help but think of him still Against my best wishes and will I remain unrelieved.
YOU
I still miss you but not the You which is now what has always been I miss the You who looked at me like a newly budded flower on a seemingly dying cactus though I was always very much alive but I liked it the awe the adoration so I let it pass I miss the You who believed in betterment of self even if somewhat unwilling and it perplexed me a moment but I allowed it a slight stumbling block I miss the You who never meant or ever wanted to hurt me though you did and I let it happen because I saw potential galaxies we could rule instead of the handful of stars which to you seemed sufficient I miss the You who I knew you could be The Universe The All The Everlasting Therein lies the rub I don't miss You. I miss the idea of a You. you were never going to be You you... were only a fabrication of my heart's fantastical ideals.
you’re not gone yet
your scent has left my linen and i can almost pretend there was never a person who shared my bed if only these miscellaneous mementos regretful reminders of you would stop popping up receipts a pair of socks a toothpick with the faint aroma of tea tree oil and mint random pieces of hard candy a puzzle you bought for all of us to do together shadows of you waning at a snail's pace
thursday night
i miss you. i miss you and i don't know why. i don't feel the same way, everything has changed, i'm moving on, having fun, my appetite has returned - everything's great, don't you know? my friends tell me what a great catch i am and as usual, the sharks have sensed blood in the waters of the dating pool and i am being circled circled circled because how long can one delicious piece of meat splash about, arms flailing noticeably and failingly before going under? i miss you, god fuck, i miss you and i hate that random things jump out and remind me of you. and maybe i don't feel the same exact way and i guess a few things have changed, okay to be honest maybe i'm not having all that much fun, i wish i could just jump to being happy again and the fun isn't really fun, it's me slamming 15 shots of top shelf tequila in two hours because jesus fuck christ i want to be NUMB i am playacting at fun. i am the greatest performer in this bar and wow, another shot? sure. why not. the ones buying don't see past my glassy boozed up gaze or the drunken grin permanently affixed, frozen like a department store's front window mannequin. no, i am giggly, jiggly, and wiggly and i may be wobbly but i can see the hunger in the looks being cast at different parts of me, the mouths splitting open so i can see the shine of the whites of their sharpened teeth, jaws ready to gnaw at me, hands to grope and paw at me and fuck this noise i miss you i miss you, your chestnut brown eyes, warm and playful in the light, but mostly sad. so sad it broke my heart every time and still does even now, as only a mind's eye glimpse into my memory chest. i miss you and i miss us and i miss what could have been an exceptional and uplifting love story. i miss making magic in my kitchen for you, watching you enjoy every bite of so much on the plate. i miss how we wrapped ourselves around each other, legs twisted together, pressed so close we were unity i miss you, i miss you, and i miss you. i miss you because i love you and wow, not much has changed has it? i don't think i'm quite ready to move on, though i did give it the old college try. i can eat again but only in the tiniest of portions because sometimes my stomach decides to turn on me. nothing is great, i had to up my sleep dosage. i can't get comfortable in my own bed, your soft snoring was my white noise, i just loved having you near me, you were mine and i was yours and it was the first time in a long time that i felt so certain. you returned my key, yet continue to live rent free in the caverns of my being. i miss you. i want to talk to you. i want to smash my phone to bits so that i can't contact you because i am staring at your name in my contacts, which i should immediately delete, but i can't. i can't i miss you and i'm wondering if i should send you a message to see if you're okay but i know it's just an excuse. i already know the answer is no. because i am not.
second place
giving an ultimatum the addiction or me was not my intent it was an act of desperation a move of futility the last thing i could think of to have a reason to stay because i knew all along just as the sun rises and as it sets i was never in the running.
Recent Events
Someone commented on how I looked as though I had lost a bit of weight. They were concerned as I've not much on me to begin with. My cousin is a curandera and she did a deep cleanse on my apartment while I was at work. I pulled into my spot, already feeling the weight pulling me under again. She was on her way out, I rolled down the window to my car and asked how it went. Apparently, whatever was/is left of you/us has been battling viciously to stay. No shit. "I gave him a piece of me and I won't stop fighting to get it back." She nodded and said, "I know." She walked away and I parked my car. A spot I rented specifically for when you would spend the night. Oh well. I stepped into my place and it smelled of Dragons Blood, herbs, and an earthiness I could not identify. And I was hit with exhaustion. It's become a familiar reoccurrence since trying to rid myself of All Things You. The first time, I tried cutting you out on my own. The whole thing knocked me out in seconds, I could barely make it to my bed to lie down before I was asleep, heavy and deep. No dreams, only dark. The smoke alarm woke me up, the string I used had started a small fire. It amazed me that it dropped upon a bag of clothes meant for good will and nothing else near or around the candles was harmed. But also a lesson that I was an idiot and I should leave the spells and rituals to my cousin who was far more practiced and knowledgeable in that area. I never believed in magic. The old ways of our ancestors, the Yaqui practitioners from centuries past, meant a damn thing to me. I believed in intention, goodness, keeping a karmic balance as best I could. I believed in science and tangibility. As a 3rd generation American, any semblance of brujeria in my bloodline had been watered down like that of ice in flat, flavorless soda and it would be silly of me to put stock in any of that kind of unknown. I equated it to believing in God. Yet, I knew I gave you something when we first met. I felt it. I gave you a fragment of my essence. A slice of me intended for you to hold and keep with you, safe and loved. Since the split, I had not been right. This was no regular heart-ache. I had loved and lost ridiculously hard before, this was Not That. I knew it was something out of my scope of comprehension. I asked for her help, almost set my apartment on fire, and then passed out. Lesson learned. My cousin's magic is strong. My home has been spiritually sanitized by someone who loves and cares for me, I am feeling well enough to eat again, and I feel the gnawing twist deep within loosening, unwinding itself. I tend to my plants, I've begun to straighten up the various messes, room by room. I miss you the way someone misses a memory. Faded, foggy, blurred by too much time gone by. Even though it's only been a few days. I am regaining my own strength, no longer weakened by my love for you.
Cord Cutting
I've not been able to stop. These thoughts, sentences, feelings. Not even for minutes. Even when I haven't been able to jot down every living, breathing, writhing word, they all wriggle freely in my head, against another, with another, becoming another. I try and fail to make any of it come to some sort of sense. In the odd quiet, I notice the quick clicks and clacks upon my keyboard. After midnight in the city on a Friday. No sirens. No yelling. No squealing of tires echoing on the streets. Nothingness of sound. I wish I was as void as that. Somewhere, not so long ago, in a dream, I pressed myself against you, a soft but firm embrace and you did the same to me. Together, we fell into the waking sleep of souls connecting and the electricity of the event brought us front and center, face to face - rather, face in face, body in body, and it was the palpable just short of physical melding of something so far beyond our scope for rationale and reasoning. I know this was a dream because it is fading fast as the light of what used to be Us. There is no longer a We, only a Me and a You. I am drowning in the madness of missing you. But is it that? Or is it that have I lost a part of myself and this is why my stomach turns, my head pounds, my hands shake...I am going into shock because there is an integral piece of what Keeps Me Partially Whole not in place. I would like it back, please. Pack it up, wrap it gently - or not, leave it in a paper sack or store it in a gift shop box, I could care less how it finds its way home to me. I will happily and immediately give yours to you because I aim to cut any and all cords which bind. I was not made to carry you like this, alone and without solid promise for reunion. I don't fool myself into believing that you are suffering the same. You have your way to escape and hide from any and all things unpleasant. I do not. I have the eerie stillness of a Friday night in the city, the clock ticking, the branches outside my window rustling tip-toe soft as to not disturb the quiet, my fingers tapping away at this rant which you will never see. I have myself, my resolve, and what's left of what I thought was Real. And I have the strength to walk away.
But Otherwise Fine 