Housekeeping

Wake up in bed and found something new

something new and introduced to you

Was only one toothbrush on the counter

Next to the toothpaste with the cap on. 

And the floor with no clothes on it

Because you spend your newfound free time

Cleaning up your place

But you all found was all this new space

Where she used to lie with you in bed

And you would lie with your chin to the top of her head.

Til she decided you weren’t right

For the life she wanted, you asked what type.

So she went and carved you out with a knife-

Like precision, and made that decision all on her own, inconsiderate of the thought that it affects two and leaves a mark on your heart like a tattoo.

It’ll take years to fade and some will ask about it, where did you get it, and did it hurt.

You’ll act tough, and with an etch-a-sketch smirk gently flirt back, 

But in the back of your mind,

You know you’ll still find

A picture of her smile and grace,

And her reaction when you surprised her on her birthday, that face. 

Never able to truly hate her,

You’ll never emotionally stop dating her.

She belongs from March last year to this year’s November.

Well. 

At least your apartment is clean.

Inspired by "Underdressed" by Verite

Take me to the roof

I’ll just need a little push.

It’s pretty much what you’ve already done

Driving me to the edge of my mind

Where I feel naked and scared

Dropped in the middle of the woods

Feeling the ants crawling on my chestticks hiding under the skin on my shoulders.

Leaving pinpricks of blood on my bed

Small reminders of bad nights ending

With period shaming under the fitted sheets

stain the mattress, which I’ll keep for at least another 

1-2-3

Maybe 4-5-6 years 

Knowing my lazy ass.

Watching it get heavier while I watch my own weight,

Feeling heavier and further from heavenly.

Pinpointing the bluffs and mistakes on my body,

Like this is from not running on Tuesday

And this is from eating a cookie from the break room.

And tomorrow this bruise will be from drinking too much

And meeting you and telling you I think you’re kind of cute, and maybe we can also telephonically connect, here are my numbers.

6-5-4

3-2-1

0 

Chances 

that this will end well.

Target acquired. The eagle is landing.

And I’m zeroed and honed in on

Staring down at the streets below.

My self esteem as dim and small as the cars at my toes.

1-2-3

Here 

I

Go.

When he doesn’t call back

High School Reunion

I’m going to start this in a little cliche way

With a fuck you and have a nice day.

Because I’m a little sick of this story

Even though you’ll find it boring

Because I’m pretty sure you’ve done this same thing before, repeated history.

But fck it, I’ll tell it anyway.

We met when we got some drinks with some friends.

And we didn’t really tell them about us til the end.

Probably because they would’ve known we were a bad fit.

The only time we were a good fit was when we were doing it.

If anything we fought way more than we talked.

Even if that fighting was all in my head.

I couldn’t tell you anything except "A little to the left!" in bed.

But my mouth would be busy touching your things

And I’d wonder in my head if this was just a fling.

I never did get you to verify

So I pretended my soul was made of ice.

I think we said goodbye

but we did so very nicely.

In retrospect it was all kinds of fucked up.

You acted like a man with his shit tucked up.

While I was busy away getting my face mucked up.

You were getting your ego and balls sucked up.

Honestly I have no reason to hold anything against you.

It was fair game and we played it all by the rules. 

It sucks this engagement came with enragement, 

But honestly, it was an instructive arrangement. Thanks God.

Well good luck to you dude,

If we pass in the streets, let’s be rude. 

Lets ignore each other’s faces

And avoid our familiar places.

We never happened.

This shit didn’t happen.

What was I about to say?

Oh yeah. 

Fuck you and have a nice day. 

Marriage Counseling

The chaplain told me to picture myself
at the top of a mountain.

Picture myself on a scouting mission
taking notes on the required distance to travel,
and pencil in the margins of the map
all the shadows of self-doubt
for I would be assigned to also carry out the objectives.

He asked me to remember praying
for every step to bring me
from one cluster of wildflowers to the next.
Clump after clump of purple floral weeds line the path
like a hero's farewell parade.

But the cheers trickle away
while I scale up towards the stars
so far ahead
I cannot hear their whispers.
Their judgmental stares
are my closest companion
because up here,
I am alone.

A loan from the people below,
payment of self-sacrifice to the Gods.
For we've been informed that they don't want too many people
knocking on heaven's doors,
so my friends and family stay behind.

The chaplain told me to picture knocking on God's door,
like some fiercely independent Girl Scout,
banging her knuckles on the door,
"Look, God, look what I can do!"

He wanted me to picture being alone
so I'd want to keep you in my life.

The Cadence

My shrill commander, he echos

through the fields

we pass, marching in rhythm, in step, in time

we pass the sunrise, peeking her eyes over the sheets of night,

so early in the morning.

How wide I open my mouth,

but only mumbles tumble out

for no matter how loudly

my vivacious drill sergeant sings

I can't, from the back of this formation

hear a god damn thing.

My Dear MRE

Hands are unsteady,
tugging at the tight lips
of my next meal.
My nails feel brittle
and my dry knuckles weak from effort.

Yet when the secrets spill from my dear MRE
I could listen to her sweet nothing whispers for eternity.