Didn’t even have the balls to talk to me face-to-face.
He puts it all on me like it was my choice. Like I wanted it this way.
He said he loved me. He does not love me.
What a fucking liar. I don’t know why I thought he was different. I need to go get my fucking head scanned. Maybe it’s a tumor I can slice out so I never have to feel like this again.
Cast aside, full of questions, confused, angry.
I wish I didn’t mean it when I told him I love him.
Fuck me for letting him in. Fuck my brain for thinking about him. Fuck my heart. Fuck my traitorous body for missing his touch.
He don’t give a shit about me
He thinks in shadows.
There are days that I spend wiping clean the messes I make. There are days that flash, over and over and over, in my head and in my heart that go on forever, stomach churning thoughts.
There are nights I pass this over, in a soft, godless blanket. There are mornings I wish never came.
These are not unique feelings. These are not interesting feelings. There is nothing in my mind or mouth of which I take ownership. I am a mimic of nothing deep.
Of everything I see and feel and experience, there is no joy but the joy I find in the eyes of my children. My Elvis. My Henry. My sweet, beautiful, echoing angels. My mischievous, demanding, flirtatious boys.
I love my nephews, my nieces, my sister, my mother, my friends; but they are not enough to chase away my shadows. They cast a warm glow, but it lurks, just the same.
It is unfair to put such a heavy burden on my sons. I hope they never know how much I need them. I want them to look at me and see good things. I want to be good.
My life, in verse.
My two boys. One seven, one almost three months.
Smiles from strangers.
Making you laugh.
Odd bursts of affection: giving and receiving.
Knowledge. Knowing the answers to questions.
My mother, my sister, my nieces and nephews.
The light that shines in the eyes of children.
Green chile burritos.
A clean house; no matter how fleeting.
Writing for the demons and juggling for the angels.
Staying up all night – even when exhausted – to finish the book that absorbs me.
Escape to wonderland.
You did that thing again. Keep breaking promises. No one’s keeping track but you.
But we know, don’t we?
You think because you pressure them into saying things it’s sincere? They just want you to shut up.
So shut the fuck up.
You shouldn’t be doing this anyway. No more babies you fucking idiot.
Always one more
She ain’t coming back.
Be glad and grateful for what you have already. Three wonderful boys. The memories of a wonderful baby girl.
A job – of sorts. Maybe a better one one day.
Maybe get your shit together.
You’re not looking so good these days. Seems like you still wish you were in the ground with her.
You stupid, greedy asshole.
That is it, isn’t it. You’re just hiding. Just playing human.
You thought he meant it?
Stop it. Now.
Half asleep in my own life
When I am fully awake I remember the anger and the disappointment
Some comfort to this wreck that you call beautiful
Each freckle that covers you
The way your body presses against mine
(You go slower but I cannot)
My heart is a glutton
The false feeling of being loved has left, no shouting, just left gasping and hoarse when his hand left my throat
That mind of yours that I wish to crawl inside of
That heart of yours that I wish to
Ignoring the snake in the corner who eats his own tail
I cannot crush his head under my heel
He lives in me
You take time
You take patience
You take my heart and being and body and my doubts
These pieces that I cherish mean little when taken one by one by
You see me for a moment and then look away
I see you for a moment and look away
I take patience
I take time