like a crackhead to the pipe,
burned by the fire,
i hate romance and crave it…
on what day did God create desire?
that’s how my heart goes…
there are some people who honestly believe that
if they focus intently enough,
they can make the flame of a candle
rise and fall with their thoughts.
much too often, i have been a fool,
played the fool for that same trap,
thinking that i can create sparks in acquainted hearts,
mistaking kindness for interest
and my loneliness for the possibility of love.
once a pyromaniac,
i now flee from fire,
keep an extinguisher on my back
and with it, i aim and fire
the potential for romantic stories,
trapped in the fog of my history,
chest burning too painfully to see reality.
i no longer even attempt to stare,
have substituted my gaze for a blank empty glare
like a blind woman who has miraculously regained her sight
but still wears sunglasses because
she’s used to not opening her eyes.
is my fear that the future is too bright
or that all will be white?
absence of color,
absence of hope,
no patience to stare at fire,
seeking another foolish hobby
we are fake lovers,
spinning on a broken record
that’s our jam
that causes us to dance
when we jump out of our crazy,
lonely lives to listen
to each other breathe into phone receivers
and wish for more.
we had more, baby.
we were Bonnie and Clyde
speeding down a highway
where reality chased
and there was no damn way
we were stepping on the brakes.
we were the Red Sea before
Moses lifted his staff to separate,
but now we live on two different sides–
there is dry land in between the wetness
that once lived in laughter that birthed tears
and bodies that danced in sheets without any cares
in the world but which one of us
will cum first.
“us” had come to an end
with no satisfaction
and now i wish i could wrap back then
in saran wrap or a silk napkin
and save the memories for when i am hungry.
i would eat them crumb by crumb for every night
i have to sleep alone with no one
or watch romantic movies
and end up sentimental and crying
or ponder the reasons
why love always seems to be dying
and dine on the times
when you and me were “we” thriving.
our love was alive like
Lazarus after Jesus wept
and we took steps
on a spiraling staircase that never seemed to end
until we tried to climb to future heights
and fell down to hell.
now shit is fire and i think you’re a liar
but even though you burned me
you’re still the best i’ve seen
with my near-sighted eyes
and i wish i could feel once more what we had.
and i wish we didn’t move so fast
from strangers to lovers to soul mates
to exes to strangers
to this phase
of sporadic late night phone calls
and empty promises
and reminiscing of good night kissing
instead of hanging up with uncertainty
of when we’ll speak again.
i miss my friend.
old love is perfume
stuck in my favorite scarf,
hanging on by threads.
she told her friend that she liked him a lot
but she was scared because
he’s kinda rough and once told her that
he’d fight for anything,
after a few months,
the next scene cuts
to her banging on her friend’s door late at night
with blackened eyes and a bruised face
and she’s crying hard,
scared for her life
and begging her friend to let her in
but her knocks go unanswered.
she sits on the front steps with a cigarette
on the right side of her mouth
and a blunt on the left,
hoping that smoking both at the same time
will fill her lungs, blacken them
and quicken her death.
she closes her eyes and remembers happy times–
of when she and her boyfriend first met
and recalls the first incident of violence
with pangs of regret.
the phrase, “this is my fault”
is a bullet shot from the back of her brain
that ricochets painfully, driving her insane
and she contemplates the different ways
she can end her life
and then looks up and sees headlights
and a window that rolls down
and the driver is a scared man-child
who wears tears of his own and a frown
and he stares–
watching the young lady he says he loves
pick the shattered pieces of herself up,
walk to the car and get in.
and then they drive off.
if i inhale deeply enough,
i wonder if i could convince
the scent of you to
live in my system forever.
whenever we are near one another,
i make sure i am connected with
my body so i don’t miss a breath
and a chance of holding you
from each inhale and exhale to the next.
at times i worry because the truth is,
we have nothing in common.
but i sense that if we kiss,
we will have so much in common.
daily life is so commonplace
and my intuition tells me that
if we can stand face to face
and feel each other’s hearts beat,
we can turn in this bleak
existence and exchange it for the
take a chance,
take my hand
and let’s prove our doubts wrong.
let’s hold on
to the present moment,
not contemplating the nearly impossible future.
for a few fleeting minutes, just picture
don’t wonder how
we’re gonna work out or if
we’re gonna make it.
i can’t take it when you’re away.
stay here, let me pull on your eyes
and make ringlets of O’s with the smoke
of words i am afraid to say.
let me cloud my lungs with aborted displays
and risk terminal cancer for
refusing to honor my connection
if i inhale deeply enough,
one day i might be brave enough,
to explain the extent to which i wish
to hold you hostage inside of me.
but until then,
i’ll just keep my distance
i await the day that you will
that me being a part of your life
is so much more
than regular routine,
but more like a route
that makes this life worth living.
although it hurts to stretch,
i want you
to fill me with your love,
reach so far that you erase
my hurt and heartaches
from past people who didn’t know the right way
to expand my feelings, who abused my willingness
to try and my inability to stray.
don’t run away,
just stay a little longer,
let me show you how i can be a woman,
how i’m not just a girl,
but someone to make you feel complete.
i see us leaping, jumping
into new horizons,
the purple and pink and orange we create
in the sky without any clouds to bring rain
on our union.
it’s so clear now–
you’re slipping away,
leaving me and
i don’t want you to go,
but something about the way
tells me that you’re serious this time.
i wish we had more time
to explore and discover,
to be more than casual lovers but truly
there for one another.
please, consider reconsidering
so that you can relieve me of the shivering
that occurs when you are not near.
as you walk away,
i already feel cold.
bring me your warmth from your spark,
fill up the room of my vessel
so that i never feel dark again.
touch my heart again,
let me romance you,
let me convince you
that you are making a mistake.
damn i hate
to beg but you’re leaving me
with no choice. the voice
of our love is hoarse
and me, i just want you
to come back.
i feel empty and without a soul
when i walk around with half of you in my body
and the other half floating beyond my control.
let’s unite and promise to keep it together
because to be honest, we need each other.
i’ve been without you for too long,
forgot who you were
under the guise of being strong
and in my pursuit to survive,
i lost sight
of who you were
and the fact that i need me
and i await the day
when me will come back to this body
so that i can be whole again
rather than begging for the friend
of myself that i
lost and can’t seem to regain.