Closing Act.

Back here again.

The most familiar place I’ve ever been.

This is the part where I’m forgotten… again.

Where I fold into the shadows of memories that blend in with empty spaces and cold wind.

The part where I am let go of.

Where I come crashing down from above. Where I’m reminded that the embarrassing fall out of love often comes with a beastly shove.

The part where the end is near. Closer than it appears.

Where my eyes build up with tears- blinding me, so I won’t have to face my fears.

The part where I become another “was”.

Because my “ends and odds” are finally realized as flaws.

So before my scene gets paused and the curtain draws…

Let me give my best.

If it has to end,

let it be to the sound of a grand applause.

The Negotiate.Her. (free write)

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I used to only want the best for me.

Held my head up so high, even the sky seemed limiting. Like butter, my self-esteem spread over everything… how I used to be, who I was, and what I will be.

Now here I am… still standing.

Legs shaking, as I desperately try not to fall to my knees… See, life’s endless testing made me too weak to carry my self-esteem. So completely unworthy… I resort to bargaining.

I will take your half-heartedness, but… well maybe you can at least give me the right half of it…

I will make-do with your eye wondering. It.. has to land on me eventually…

I can stand being forgotten occasionally… besides, I was born being lonely.

I will make do with your day-late wishes, forced smiles, weak hugs and cold love…….. Yes, I think this… this is good enough.

Selling my heart at a discounted rate… In exchange for… this thing……. should be ashamed to beg for something I can’t even give a proper name…

Just. Please. Give me what you can and I will work with what I get.

I will forgive what you forget.

I will learn to live with being the next best thing after the last thing, if that means I’ll have reason to be. I have no right to demand anything, but please,

Just…

Leave me this thing.

Influenc.Her.

He bleeds honesty. So.

She keeps a knife in his chest.

Penetrates his flesh.

He cries integrity, so she keeps his tears fresh.

She’d mention she has good intentions.

Encouraging him to be his best.

Connected to him through his weakness and pain.

She knew it was possible to make someone change.

Somewhere between the hurt of her last broken heart and gathering the will to restart, she picked up a piece of knowledge to which she held firm:

They will only learn if it burns.

A Simple Tune.

tune

 You’d say its a shame you could only gaze at it before bed… Made no sense in my head.

Our bedroom had a view of the moon… magic hours were between 10 and 2. Lost on me, but for some reason it always enhanced your mood. Never truly understood you. You would hum, and I can’t say I cared for the simple tune… never ended too soon.

We’d wake up and race each other to the bathroom.

I win.

With toothpaste slathered across your grin; we’d stare at each others’ reflection as we brushed our teeth. You had more time than me to get ready, so your face in my space bothered me…

Compromised on the water temperature as we showered together. I’d long for more heat… even just a few degrees. You’d pick out my clothes. I began to forget what I’d bought on my own… Kiss each other goodbye. Relieved to have space for just a moment of time. Send me texts while I’d catch my breath between meetings… How could you miss me already? Race each other home. Loser cooks dinner.

I win.

Then fill me in on your day. How much could have happened while I was away? Laugh too hard when I’d tell you about that awkward reception lady in grey. A glass of wine? Red- doesn’t matter the kind. Watch a movie and unwind. I’ll loosen my tie. Race each other to the bedroom.

I win.

Spin and undress each other, and then dress in each other. Combine. Intertwine like the fresh juice of a lemon and lime.

 


The memory of you has been long gone. An uneven match never prone to make it past dawn. In my old age, I lay here in bed while my wife reads in the other room.

It is a quarter ’til 2. I lay here and hum a simple tune as I stare at the moon. Knowing somewhere out there… you are too.

You win.

 

Break.

I know I need to leave you,

But how does one split the moon?

How can you separate the dirt from the wind in a monsoon?

You were me and I was you. Always one. Never two.

The time will come soon,

The great divide of one of a kind.

A masterpiece awoken and burned alive.

Inside, it evokes a feeling much like peeling apart the bones of my spine.

Inevitably interrupting the design of my mind.

Disrupting the rhyme on the two and four.

Won’t cry, just gaze in my eyes- puffy and sore, one last time, before the pieces of the moon hit the floor.

Road Trip.

Past the roof, above your sight line

Through the pollution, clouds and skyline

Further than the scattered stars, however far they may lay…

Beyond the reach of night and day

Zip past the Man on the Moon, who used to guide your way… if you want to linger there… and I know you do. That’s okay.

But soon, come through the planets that stick together like magnetics.

I know you, so yes… go ahead and stop by the rings of Saturn.

Then cruise by the Sun and wave to each ray one-by-one… don’t get too close or your wings will come undone.

Forget the yellow, red, gold and orange. you’ll have all of that in unlimited storage. A renaissance of color much like Florence.

Come now, just past the blue, purple, black, and grey

Through every piece of foreign debris that has broken and strayed

Beyond skinny seconds, medium minutes, heavy hours and light years

Far from Earth’s axis and gears

Away from force, fights, falls, and fears…

Time, temptations and tears

Extending past every black hole, where all grey matter folds

Past gravity and extraordinary portals of extraterrestrial cavities

No archives of heated lies or cold goodbyes where you’re traveling.

Do not be scared of that bright light glistening

It’s just me signaling

Please don’t rush. wait for your timing

I will wait. Right here by the gate

Come meet me in the 7th universe to the right; past that blazing God-like meteorite.

For our love will grow beyond what we could ever hope to fit in this life.

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Love Like.

love like

Love me scentless.

Like incents,

leave me lingering in negative space.

Love me sightless.

Like night,

cover my vision with thick black lace.

Love me soundless.

Like silence,

devour sound and leave no trace.

Love me through my senses.

Love me senseless, so I can sense this passion burning through my fingertips when I write these sentences.

 Because I can only Love you slowly.

I’ve never been good at showing,

but read me.

I use the senses you gave me to creep writings with something of deep meaning into your face at a steady pace.

A love like poetry…

You won’t understand it until the next day.

Saved.

saved

Look out the window at that ocean view. I’ll come to you in waves.

With your next appetite, Ill be exactly what you crave.

Look in the mirror and we’ll talk face-to-face.

Close your eyes. I’ll make a visit in your dreams.

Turn up the volume to your tunes, and Ill surround you in streams.

I will travel through the noise and underneath the silence by various means.

Ill be on your fingertips- the same ones you took away from me.

The fingertips that stopped touching me, pointed me to the door, and made me feel unworthy.

Yes, let me go but you won’t breath easy. I’ve already unpacked my being next to the things you promised me.

Wanted me to feel put out. Abandoned. Forgotten. Lonely.

But while you were preparing to disconnect from me…

I made a home in your memory.

Reality.

In my dreams, I’d pack up my things, open the door and he’d get on his knees.

I’d try to push past him and he’d scream.

Telling me it’s not what it seems, and maybe promise me everything… Possibly beside a diamond ring.

Maybe he’d cut his seams and I’d see that he bleeds sincerity.

Or maybe he’d crumple into a million roses and fall at my feet like I’m his queen.

Id forgive him and love him like a king.

A royal love theme.

Golden crowned silver linings.

When asked why I have such depressing fantasies of breakups and makeups interweaved…

because when I walked away,

he watched me leave.

Understood (free write).

connected

I wondered if he really knew me.

I watched the clouds grow dark and make the sky look heavy.

Waited for that first drop to hit the street.

Then ran outside. Just me and my bare feet.

I wondered if he listened when I’d speak.

If he understood when I’d tell him what I think.

No one gets me… why would he?

Always in my head… always disconnecting.

What did I expect to see?

And why does it matter to me?

I barely know myself, so… who is he to me?

He can’t possibly…

connect to me: a breathing misunderstanding.

Through the raining, I heard my phone ring. He messaged me.

Are you standing in the rain?”

I smiled. 

Where else would I be?