I Get It

I get it why people get dogs, write break-up songs, I get it all.

I see why we fight, regardless of who’s right- how you feel.

Don’t we just pretend to

care?

Why it was never that simple.

I get that now.

I see the daylight rise while breathing out those we’ve lost.

I get it all.

Where the coffee pursed my lips, the mirage of October waiting in the wings.

And I get why we play dress up, trick or treat, lie to ourselves, lie to our friends.

I mistook our lies for friendship.

How expendable we are.

The beginning never resembles the end.

I almost forget why I came. And I don’t feel the same.

It breaks my heart to know what we left on the table.

Why we gave it away.

I get it, I get it, I get it all now.

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Morning Affinity

Low level hum of the fan in here, the day looks sparse- wide open,

under sheets and cool air.

Theorize and project, but I’m not there. Something tickles my throat,

feeling fortunate to be anywhere.

Anyplace but the past, left to broken down pastures, now tall fields of grass.

Nothing sings like waking to a new day, the hum, background noise.

The morning dew, a life to renew, somewhere above ground

between the rough edges left behind, silver lined persistent, and the new found gravity I’ve found.

bi•lat•er•al

I almost got used to missing you.
Almost never gets it done, the trade-off is love:
the dig your heels in the earth kind, revolting against the sky-
your body taken miles from here,
but never the mind.
How my heart aches without you, nothing you get used to,
and I’m glad it’s temporary.

This is like a film splotched up on screen,
played out like so much Hollywood sheen.
Watching Before Sunset alone, and the reminders and cues,
our first silent pauses and what followed afterwards.
The subtle, not stark, revealing, black gives way to blue.
You don’t easily forge ground that holds no foothold on uncharted lands,
long trails that remain hush no matter how many people clutter backroads from backhand.
It was always you and me, and that’s how it will be.
Your goodbye, only temporary.

Once the Sky, Now Mine

Take a moment to catch your breath.
Blow that last wisp of air against my neck.
Guide my hand under the sheen of your guise,
don’t hide your smile, your lips were meant to please mine.

The curved silhouette, your scent, hanging long, removed from this space.
The touch of patchwork memories, wanting, longing, overcome by your face.
Working under an emblazoned sky, until the end of time…

When the Dust Settles Your Ashes are Already Gone

This is a powder keg.
I’m sitting with my legs tucked in,
arms wrapped tight,
thinking is exhausting,
extinguish the light.

stop me if you’ve heard this one before

Or light the fuse, at least then I’ll know,
shifting weight, stark details, should’ve left here long ago.
Blank slate, daylight, somersault, afterglow.

This is a powder keg.
Emotive fuse that I own.

The ash and residue exhaust the horizon.

Delicious

What would you know about blinking at an oncoming train,
battering ram-style and grace,
she left this place, your mind blown, face intact.
I heard the blitz, oncoming lights,
tracking her thighs the whole way in,
until my skin burned and fringe,
escaping her vice grip, under the pressure of skin sheathed in leather and disguise, bruises to hide and a man she couldn’t deal into a pool of sharks, fins and tails- the last thing you saw are the whites of their eyes.

Jaws gnashing your torso right above the waist.
This isn’t what she thought you’d be and you became that same thing you hate, she hated, breathing through a feeding tube that was handed to you.
Indigestible blocks of dead air, looser strands of hair,
on the kitchen floor- clinging between nails
and toes that scurry, the fridge for milk, cover Lucky Charms… shovel it in as fast as you can.

The only luck you’ll find in these late hours. Red 40 and a bitter taste she left that you can never cover up.
Damn,
this is
a delicious
catastrophe.

My Little Guy, the Mirror

Son…

When I see it for what it is, they shrunk you from me,
including personalities.
How lucky, disconcerting face, aimless grin trailing somewhere behind the tail of the wind.
Always self conscious, places to hide.
The rollercoaster pulling hair-pin turns and never letting up at the peak of the sky.

The way you twist a slice of pizza into envelope size, full of cheese, ignoring the crust.
Skin freckled, sandwiched between opaline globes- contorted in its own symmetrical array.
No lack of insecurity, no spare trust.
Subtle gestures in crowds, sometimes explosive and back to reserved.
Struggle to co-exist, crowded restaurant, pretend to ignore– maybe you can’t hear with all that noise.

I know the truth “wink,wink”.
They all must be talking about you,
yeah, I do hear that.
They glare from everywhere.
Don’t look now,
I’ve discovered my shadow