Month: November 2015

Graduation

Jack pulled into his mother’s driveway slowly, turning the wheel with the heel of his hand. As he goes to pull the keys out of the ignition, he stops.

Jack liked to tell people he was just a ‘Pontiac kinda guy’. Kayla was a beaten down, 1997 Grand Prix that had seen her fair share of damage. “With the brand so few, i’ll keep it around, even though she’s pretty rusty, not to mention broken.” Jack would say as nonchalantly as possible.

But deep down, he loved every nuance of Kayla. Her right door smashed in; the result of a careless drive home after a few too many. Her soft, worn cotton seats contorted to the shape of his body on the driver’s side. The ashtray was absolutely filled to the brim, leaving smudges all across the center console.  Memories full of road trips with old friends, the beginning and end point of drunken stupors, the safehouse from Bill; his home away from home.

He folded his arms across his chest, the warm black thermal drawing closer against his skin. The January cold began swarming in underneath his clothes. It had been a rough year, and just now, finally, things had been coming together. Jobs, college, a new home.

And of course, a new car.

The decision had been difficult, but the more and more he looked at it, the car symbolized a thing of the past; his old friends & old girls, forgotten fears and forgiven mistakes. He was beginning a new chapter in his life, and just like the Pontiac once had, this new car would symbolize his growth and accomplishment as a man.

he stood idle in the driveway; head chock full of thought, lungs tight with smoke. Jack picked at the old steering wheel cover with his free hand, the cheap plastic peeling off smoothly in accordance to the tug of his fingers. He took the final puff of his cigarette, right down to the filter. There was something about the heat dancing too close around his lips that made his last drag most pleasant.

Suicide

When I think of love
It is overwhelming in such a way
That I have to hold myself from shaking

he lights up the entire room, ultra violet
with dragon green eyes that burn into mine like acid
and a smile that kinks and curls in all the perfect places

we are the most dangerous combination I have ever touched.

I know those freckles on his cheekbones are venomous
and if I dare brush my fingers across his sun-kissed skin
I’ll feel the poison crawl under my own

I know his hands on mine will be the death of me
And maybe I want to die.

 

The Pretender

Do you know how many hands have brushed with mine this week alone?
Do you know how many mouths I have kissed in this lifetime
If I had your lips on mine tonight
I don’t think I would ever forgive myself for the lack of remorse I would experience

My soul would know for certain, this house is not one of God
but rather pain and sin

I want what I want
and sometimes
that is trouble.

Heroic

I.
He laughs like he’s letting go of this weight on his lungs
like he doesn’t smoke Newports at a pack a day.

II.
There are things he has seen as a child
moments you can see his eyes far off, imagining
lost in his daydream
remembering
and promising he will not let his future reflect his past.

III.
This man stands in front of me
with Hershey brown eyes
they are grounded and wise and alive
they speak to me with a clear conscience.
Passion. Family. Perfection. Honor. Pride.

IV.
I have seen men move mountains and refuse to look inside themselves
you are a warrior
a person of such virtue
that he has constructed himself all over again
there is no honor in cowardice
but there is reverence in becoming something noble in the absence of light.

Recovery

I won’t let you pick me up from the couch
when i’ve fallen asleep watching Friends reruns
but in the middle of the night
i’ll be sure to bring myself home to you
ill climb under our sheets, wrap my arms around your middle
and make sure not to wake the dog.

There are little strings attached between our hearts
and when you hold on too hard
I worry you’re going to rip these ties right out of me
Please be patient
I am learning to be soft again.

I have always been fierce in my love, but please understand
this time I have to let myself come gently
there are wounds the size of mountains on a heart not half the size

There is a loss of hearing on my left side
From too many arguments ending in black and white
When you move your palm to caress my cheek, sweet and slow
forgive me if I mistake it for the back of your hand
I am learning to be soft again.

When I think of you, I see gardens full of flowers
each one spells a different future between us
I want to see what we can bloom

Let me heal by your side
Let me come quietly
I am learning to be soft again.

Obligation Is…

having romantic feelings towards the face of a bullet train
and knowing the look on my father’s face when the police officers arrived
is a live hell not even death could take away.

Estranged Is Too Soft A Word

I miss the person you should have been
the mother who would take me to visit my college in the fall
she would have watched the leaves fall as we drove up north together
she would help me pack my bags and unload it all when we got there
hugging me so tight at the thought of being apart.

I do not miss the woman who drank on the night of my high school graduation
until she couldn’t stand straight
the woman who blackens my name with false words
and burns my pictures with cigarette butts.

I miss our Saturday morning shopping trips
to Goodwill & Salvation Army
you were always looking for something beautiful in the smallest of places
I try to find your beauty in the small spaces, in search for glimpses of the mother I miss

but it is too much to bear.

Cavity

My love is weak.

A shallow ditch
surrounded by rivers full
water peaked & overflowing
salt and pristine
ebbing, flowing.

I am a vast deafness

A ravine of earth
fruitless and emptied
of beauty, faith and life.

How obvious of a difference is there in my soul
from the rest?

All Skin On Skin On Skin..

There are words I spell with my lips on your skin
Written and unwritten
created and cremated all in the same movement
There is beauty in words never exposed to light
Like a secret taken to the grave
Sacred and bound.

I kiss the nape of your neck
Lines of symmetry pour from my mouth down your back like syrup
They send shivers across your skin.

Listen to my body
There is unfathomable power in words unspoken
Read my lips with your hands
Trace the vowels on your fingertips
You are home.
You are safe here.

I spoke these words over and over
in silent physicality
in hopes you would know
just how much
In hopes that you would understand
there are words I cannot speak to you
in this language that mean how much I need you here.