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
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 was once told that when you love someone, to you, they’re the most beautiful thing in the world. That gave me hope, and now it will give me comfort the first time I take my clothes off in front of a new man. Not that I really think or expect any new man to love me, but I still need to get laid either way. So for now I am not a beautiful or loved thing. All the love I ever had can be spoken now in past tense. The present is talking freedom and second, third, and millionth … Read the rest
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
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.
43 turns around the sun and I still can’t find myself in the placement of things. We’re all spinning on this same rock, we’re all headed in the same direction straight toward the end. Why should I even care? What difference do I make at all, impossibly small in this universe, and more specifically, in yours? All I get from you are mixed signals and stop signs. This train is derailing, and I just want to find my way home.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: placement, impossibly small, and stop signs.
Photo by NASA Hubble Space Telescope on Unsplash
