Fresh Paint
I paint over the memories
of the abuse
you drowning in drugs and alcohol
one coat
two coats
hoping for a clean slate
but nothing blocks it out
or washes it clean
I’m still dirty with all of it
I paint over the memories
of the abuse
you drowning in drugs and alcohol
one coat
two coats
hoping for a clean slate
but nothing blocks it out
or washes it clean
I’m still dirty with all of it
I never loved you enough
to hate you
but you
inked my name on your body
as if you would love me forever
then changed your mind
wife #2
wife #3
hating me when the love for 2 and 3 lost its shine
fresh ink covering up the anniversary present to yourself
as I covered up the ring
(which never suited me)
with pieces of costume jewelry
(which bore no special significance)
in my jewelry box
the old concert t-shirt
was the only thing you left
when you left me
even though it was one of your favorite bands
maybe it reminded you too much
of the night we met
pushed up against each other
in a sea of people
I turned to look at you
and I instantly knew
I would be okay with seeing your face
across the table over my coffee cup every morning
for many mornings to come
but one day
the music just stopped for you
shared song lyrics were no longer enough
in a world filled with temptations
of new tunes
so here I sit
in your holey concert t-shirt
drinking coffee alone
My body has become
utilitarian
my legs merely carry me through days of loneliness
my arms no longer know how to embrace a man
my hands have forgotten how to alight upon skin to bring pleasure
and only go through the motions of sustainment
wash
chop
open
fold
type
my heart serves only to syncopate the silence of singlehood
What is left when your body has forgotten how to live?
Love me the most
for the ordinary things
for the way I get lost in the music
and sing like no one is listening
for the way I have conversations with my animals
like they’re people
for the way I vacuum the floor
and fold the towels
for the way I kiss you every morning
before you walk out the door
like it might be the last time I see you
Love me
just because
I’m me
and there’s no one else like me
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
i've choked on my words for far too long
It's not the length of life, but the depth.
This is my mind, it’s not supposed to make sense.
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