(A Love Poem)
Will you let exhilaration
Wring out
The hilarity in every mop
Of joy?
A shoe
A baby’s shirt left behind
Of these there are
No black and white stills
Nor cheap recordings
Bought with stolen goods.
I give the bad back to you
And you draw me, standing
In the sand, a perfect picture
Of refuge. Will you let
Me land on this safe shore
Where your doors are
Always open?
Not only
is the emperor
wearing no clothes
–he’s actually an ostrich
with his head stuck
in a hole in the ground
where once upon a time
was a burning cross.
abuse is a word i am uncomfortable with,
and i never anticipated using it to describe parts of my own life.
when i was told i’d been abused i didn’t know how to react.
i detailed how you treated me to so many people before in an emotionless manner,
but the word struck me hard, and cut deep
and i found myself holding back tears.
acknowledging that what you’d done to me was more than just “mean words”
or a “lost temper”
meant acknowledging that i didn’t truly love or respect myself enough
to decide on my own that i deserved so much more than what you had given.
we missed the sunset
but that’s okay
because our lips
were pressed together
and that
was more beautiful
than any oranges
or pinks
of the sun
now the moon’s up
and the night’s
limitless
We’ve begun to chart our interactions,
circumnavigate our small worlds
in pursuit of certainty. But I am no
cartographer. These waters are
treacherous, ever shifting, landmarks
losing their identities in the rising tides.
With no alternatives at hand
I mistook Scylla for safety
and must spend the summer solstice
stranded at sea.
I picked these for you
mamma
a bitty bouquet
Clover flower,
dandilion,
forget-me-nots
tied together
with a leaf and
heartstrings
just so.
My parents
raised me
to understand
I could never
know the
hardships
someone else
was facing
and just because
I had never had
an experience
myself,
it didn’t mean
it wasn’t real or
hadn’t happened
to another person.
We draw lines
for ourselves
and set boundaries,
lines we toe
along the edge
of who we are.
Sometimes
it takes a person
who’s life is
completely
different
from your own
to teach you
what truly
matters,
but you have
to pay attention.
Bourbon makes
me brave,
emboldened
with the sweet
warmth of alcohol,
I am ready
to take my stand
and walk the
course
of this path
I have
veered into.
A group of Goonies
Sitting on blankets
In an empty parking lot
Hour old popcorn
And music playing
Fireworks flying
The night is young
And so are we
The Pogues live on
Looking for the treasure
We call happiness
We both saw each other as warm bodies
Until we weren’t
Until it wasn’t
Until I was the warm body and he was suddenly the deaf
unable to hear
Eventually I turned cold
He could hear again
Maybe it was selective all along?
Vocabulary deficiency
The word “no”
