One Morning

There is a car,
unfamiliar to memory,

so it gets a second glance.
I cross the threshold like I do every morning and remove my suede shoes.

My joyful steps upon entrance are quickly diverted to hushed tones.
I whisper across the floor and down the steps one

                                                                        by one

                                                                           by one.

Happy friends dress quietly behind closed doors.

The laughter and loyalty of language is a hospitable banter.

I knock.
You arrive at the door with a scare in your sight—

visions of last night in your eyes.

The air reeks of your tangled bodies;
it knocks me out.

I’m speechless—inside I scream.

Her puzzled look is imperfection,

but I think it’s her usual appearance.

I lay my hands on you in an unfamiliar affection.

I don’t use words, just one.

Pick up my feet— I run.

Run from you and your flaking promises,

past the house we built, and every memory I dare to ditch.

I slow my pace somewhere between our town and the next.

I double over;
I’ve been cut in two.

There’s no surviving this.
It’s a pain I can’t contain

and it spills over into rage.
You aren’t quick on the move,

but you come after me
to bring a half-ass apology as bait.

Excuses aren’t excused
and I’m in no mood for sympathy.

If you can find it in your heart, you will let me go,

let me go on living in this misery.

Your conflicting personalities have worn me out;

lover or fighter—you can’t be both

and you have lost your balance too many times.

I’m tired of running from you so I stop to catch my breath.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the open air.

The sun on my skin gives a warm welcome.

Out here I can see for miles,
without your suffocation

or fear of stepping over the line.

Words, phrases, names and countries I was refused

to speak have formed at the edge of my lips,
“freedom.”

I wipe the smudges off my watch and eagerly read the time—

I still have time.
The day is young and so am I.

Determined not to take any steps backwards,

I never turn.
I rally my heart and continue forward. 

A fairytale.

Love that conquers all my doubts,

from the rooftop makes me shout,

“Thou art my love; my love is thee

and at the gate he waits for me.”

Sword in hand, battle cry,

“Dear maiden open the gate and I

shall sweep you from this village now

to my castle, to await our vow.”

At your right hand I’ll sit by you,

by your right cheek I’ll lie with you

and all the kingdom will know it’s true

love that brings life into view.

Wind in my Leaves

You are the root of every tree.

I begin to climb, higher and higher

until rooftop reflection glitters in my eyes.

From here I see our whole world,

as small and unimportant as it is, it was ours.

The home where you grew up,

the field where we used to play,

every leaf on this oak grew here—like us.

It stood in storms and silence,

swaying in the solitude of the wind.

Spreading its arms to reach for a neighbor,

a confidant to grow beside,

like you and I—inseparable

as the roots of this tree to the earth.

Until the day they came for you

with their axes and saws,

their casket and cloak. I screamed

but no one heard; trapped

behind these thick layers of bark.

They locked me inside,

but I picked the lock and sprinted

to your house.  You were gone.

They found me on your floor

clenching your Simba, rugged and worn

from the way you would swing him by his ears.

I wouldn’t let go; it was all I had left.

I can't escape the emptiness of every day

or how to comprehend the agony in my chest.

My truest friend, our pinky-sworn plans,

every undiscovered inch of this world

will have to wait until we meet again.

Each ticking second

feels like it will last forever—time lingers.

I’m growing weak by week,

I need to see you;
I climb.  Up here, in our place

among the treetops, I feel you and

I know you are here—veiled in the breeze.

Stutter

Use those big words

you memorized in grade school,

seek them out and spit them up.

The nothingness in your mind chuckles

“stupidity.”  You never cease to surprise.

When one word could kill

you’d sing the dictionary.

When one could save—

you’re speechless?

The irony is tangible—I reach for it.

Feels like soap; slippery and cold

like the walls of this room

shrinking inward every second,

until they collapse on us.

This lean-to won’t hold.

As it crumbles, you gasp.

Just one word, “Love.

I, I love.”  It’s enough.

Your walls have broken;

you are free. Take my hand—

walk with me.

The Captain's Log

The negativity of loneliness

attacks your righteous mind;

sinking it like an anchor.

The once proverbial positivity of

your penmanship is scribbled on the wall.

Your words are scattered,

misleading, and unpresentable.

Lie out your lines one by one;

rearrange them like a jigsaw until they fit.

Now speak them slow and smooth.

The hollow tone of sweet alliterations

flowing from your lips begs the question,

“where’s your muse, dear one?”

She was lost at sea,

a captive of piracy.

The delusional escape of jumping ship

pulled her overboard to leave you

captain of an abandoned tomb.

Quick & Painless

Catch me in your web.

Come crawling towards your prey

eyeing her supple skin.

Warm the breath of desire

chills the spine—breathe me in.

Sink your fangs to sweetened flesh,

eruption of senses, erection's test.

For want to satisfy cravings' need,

a victim give in and easy be.

Archetypal archaism of love.

Pondering the archetypal archaism of love.

The dumb meaning, which brings

swollen eyes to young enthusiasts,

is lost to me now. Puke at the thought of its

smooth words and sweet tone.

Oh, fuck off!  You’re just a cheap trick

waiting to pounce at first sight of vulnerability.

An empty hand waiting for its match,

but that’s why God gave us two.

I am the only shoulder I need.

I am no naïve fool, I know

reliability shouldn’t be given to the fickle minded.

Spare me your sweet soliloquies,

for no love letter will turn my tune.

Sharp arrowed is my mind

after the last war was lost.

Lost my heart, my mind and my love.

Not again, not ever.

My empty chest tomb is cold and corroded.

Your words will be wasted on me.

Let me ponder in peace.