Posts tagged poet

in Poems

i still miss you

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Decades ago,
it’s been decades now,
you and I shared space
in the same place
at the same time
and the fact that
was even possible
feels like magic. 

Now all I have are
memories and imaginations,
like the lump of my belly
growing with our baby
and the house we
would have bought together,
the home we would
have made forever. 

Remember marching
up the sand dunes to see
the most beautiful sunset
of our entire lives?

Do you remember dancing
at Limelight, utterly high with the
flashing lights and pulsing music,
our sweaty bodies sliding
against each other … Read the rest

in Poems

elevator love letter

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It’s Christmas Eve.
I wish more than ever
that this wasn’t happening.

I wish we could have lived
a life together from the start,
like you had with her,
like I’ll never have
with anyone.

I wish you were like your dad
who kept walking past your mom
to see her through a window while
she worked, and he wouldn’t
give up on her, he’d never give up.

Our love, if you could call it that,
went up and down like the
elevators your father worked on.

You said elevators can’t really crash
like they do in the movies, but… Read the rest

in Poems

it’s not for me

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I wanted to be a part of your family at the Fourth of July picnic that’s crazy like a circus, at your sister’s table on holidays, by your side on Christmas morning. I had dreams of all of these things in my life, and now I look past tomorrow and see nothing but darkness. I’m spaced out in shock, still not wanting to accept it’s over, regarding re-entry into real life as an assault, because how do I live without you? How I go days without talking to you? I won’t be going to your niece’s wedding next year. I … Read the rest

in Blog Life Poems

games we didn’t play

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We said it so many times we called it 10%, because it felt like “I love you” was 10% of all we say to each other. Every day, I love you, I love you, I love you, a balm I’ll never grow tired of but, underneath it all, became a noose around your neck. We’ll stick to easy games; no tag, no red rover, no hopscotch, nothing that involves touching or thinking about you. Finger painting, maybe, that’s an activity we can do together now that cuddling and sex are off the table. My best friend has a sex painting. … Read the rest

in Poems

why don’t you rip my heart out?

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I should have said goodbye years ago, the first time you wanted to, the second time, the tenth. But I wasn’t the only one saying let’s give it one more chance, I wasn’t the only one holding on. I wake up tired every morning, crying alone in bed, looking at the space you took up and picturing you there welcoming me into your waiting arms. I cry because I am starved for touch. I cry because of you. The line between me handling it and having a breakdown is paper thin. I’ve been holding myself together with scotch tape … Read the rest

in Poems

construction

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You are not special. You think I made you my world, but my world is built with words and dreams, and I’m not dreaming about you anymore. Surely this was to be expected after years of swimming in your toxic waters; there should be no surprise. I dreamt you had the face of an angel, the ass of David, and a heart soft enough to feel safe inside. But these dreams turned out to be wishes, there is a difference, and either way, they never come true.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: not what anyone expected, swimming, and David… Read the rest

in Poems

out the door

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When you leave we don’t say goodbye anymore. I don’t pause to put down my coffee and stand to get one last hug and kiss from you, I don’t tell you I love you, I don’t walk you to the door so I can shut it quietly behind you. Later, I’m cold as ice and turn my head from you, I don’t want to look at you, especially as we decorate the tree with things you dragged from the basement without me asking. This was going to be our first real Christmas in our home, and now it’s going to … Read the rest

in Poems

melting

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Today, I’m sorry that any of this happened
and if I could, I would take it back
by any means necessary to save my
heart from breaking over you again. 

Hearts are supposed to be these strong,
red, hot, beating to keep the body alive
organs, and not what I feel I have in the
middle of my chest, just this melting piece of ice. 

Today’s poetry prompt words were: I’m sorry, by any means necessary, and ice.

Photo by Liana S on Unsplash