I’ve always wanted to see
the skies of Montana, or even
Wyoming, wherever that is;
can I find it on a map?
I’ll check the forecast,
pack up my medicine and
toothbrush and clothes,
and I’ll just fucking go.
Set out on the highway
With “head west” being
the only thing I know,
a road that may or may not
be lonely, and my cat,
she comes, too.
I’m going to die
if I don’t get away from you.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: Wyoming, forecast, and medicine.
Photo by Neil Wallace on Unsplash
I can’t take this anymore
I’ve said hundreds of times
but now I really mean it.
I can’t take it,
not a minute longer.
We’ve lived a life of
make-believe and never
stopped playing games.
Dress-up, house, pretend.
It really has to end.
I’ve been dancing
around the edges of
my escape route and
now I’m running toward it.
I want to be free
as fast as I can be.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: not a minute longer, make-believe, and dancing.
Photo by Erik Karits on Unsplash
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
If only things
had worked out
the way I’d wished they would
We’d be opening gifts and
taking photos in front of
our first Christmas tree
But now I wish you
weren’t here, and instead
I’m planning my exit strategy.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: if only, dinner, and exit strategy.
Photo by Andrew Abbate on Unsplash
Who are the biggest influences in your life?
“They” say
you are the sum
of your five closest people;
that they shape you and
you have no choice in that,
it just happens
for better or worse.
Oh, I hope they are wrong,
because otherwise,
I am so fucked.
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
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
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
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
