This Poem Got Away From Me How Cliche It's Something All Poets Will Say So Am I A Poet At All? If I'm

My dear, are you here? I reach out to you again From the delicate Attachment of my thoughts And you are sensory An actively forming memory

Do we live just once? I can't take the chance Believing we'll live twice Though that hope is nice We can never touch tomorrow And I won't survive on vices

Love and hate coexist together In one person A continuous fluctuation between Sympathy and disgust I want to ruin her I want to hold her head under water And watch her squirm

So I can drag her out Give her mouth to mouth Cradle her gasping body in my arms While I scream at her for being stupid Spitting and wiping my lips That were tainted from saving her

I hate her and I love her I hate to love her, never the opposite Never have I hated a person before And I have no reason to hate her More so I hate our transgressions I hate the wrongness we shared And the shame of it all

My hate is usually dulled to apathy The forgetting It absolves me, that forgetting It takes the two emotions and washes Them away I cannot feel one without the other

I saw a small bone on the sidewalk The size of my pinkie finger I sat with it, wondering of the skeleton A truck drove by and honked loudly The bone rolled slightly on the pavement As the truck sped heavily forwards

Little bone from a little one I pictured you as a mouse, a chipmunk Maybe you were a vole or a bird I longed to touch your bone and know you But I was afraid of the reality That you lay there gentle and beautiful When the act upon your body was likely not

I don't like anything I wrote today It's all too depressing And I'm not depressed I don't think

It's just January dragging me down Down into the snow No one's dreaming of white anymore No one's dreaming of January

The grackles are sitting in limp trees Shifting around quietly, waiting For the ground to thaw But it will be several months still

Lingering in the silence All the words we do not speak, Afraid to exhale thoughts from my lips, The memories I do not have.

On a sugar high You are filled with a rush of sweetness. A child who has found their favorite candy, The jumping up and down excitement Quickly fades as I crash.

Crashed, crushed, crumbled. I forget you, forget you, forget you, Seal shut the secret garden. You do not exist here.

I was window shopping for seeds When you appeared at my side And you gave me flowers. I did not want flowers, I did not want them. Just seeds to glance at from time to time.

An unexpected change of heart Your love is a flash flood. Pouring over dry soil, Abrupt and abundant.

The broken picture frame Shattered from false image. And I am unresponsive As you would be if you knew me. But I don’t know you either.

Your head in your hands My face below yours I look up to your watering eyes A pain I can feel in the Tensing of your thighs I whisper to you "It's alright, it's alright." Your hopes falling as They leak from your eyes Dreams that dissolve as Quickly as the splattering Of droplets on clothing Evaporation so ever present As your expectations of us Or simply and only of me

One day we will wake up And we'll be older One will suddenly wake up Wondering why she feels colder One of us won't wake up at all A fallen soldier One day there will just be one of us A somber loner One day the second will wake up In a place the first will hold her One day we won't wake up We won't get older

My house was built under A dormant volcano For all my life, decades Spent in its looming shadow It has slept soundly

My house is barely furnished I keep bags packed And ready by the door Never have I slept soundly Or ever truly lived here

The snow fell on the earth Drew its blanket over the ground It brought with it the cold bite And I felt it all around

Winter sang its song of sleep As it darkened the skies But who sings for those animals Who never reopen their eyes?

Frost colored my hands Despite the fire in my heart I mourned in my blues and blacks Watching the life depart

Dear reader, I'm sorry, no, I am not writing to you I am not writing about us This is not our story You do not know me. I write about a love That is unique to me And my own, that is as Endless as a ring, As permanent as ink That does not die With our bodies when Our flesh has gone. I am writing to my own Someone, it is about Me and them, not you, I am sorry.

Dear reader, You're right, yes, I am writing to you I am writing about us This is our story. You know the soul of me I write about a love That is unique to us, To each other, that is as Endless as a universe, As permanent as dye That never fades When the fabric of Our existence has gone. I am writing to you, My someone, it is about You and me, and you knew, You were right.