In-between Grief

I’m sorry you’re here

And you can’t leave this place

Your hearts tied between moving

Forward and remembering their face

In every case where

You’ve tried

Then you cried

Cause they lied when they said it’d be okay

That while you won’t forget the day

You’ll somehow figure out how to live again

When you barely want to breathe again

It’s like sharp glass to the lungs under water

Trapped in your life and you won’t be free again

They swore that you’d be “you” again

It’s only a matter of time

But you struggle each minute passing

And I’m so sorry

That you cannot leave this place

Where your only hope from day to day

Is to see their face

Confession

He sat undaunted, still
his mind too jumbled for walking to ensue
and he couldn’t seem to trust himself
so there, he sat
the black bench, ordinary
but vital to his sanity as of yet
his view of the dewy grass sprawled across the park inspired nil
coffee and breakfast smells sent hungry animals dashing
across the sidewalk near his dark brown shoes
and there, he sat
replaying the look in her eyes
as he said those words, his truths, his mistakes
and as she moved through emotion
so quickly, all the “what? no!’s”
the “I ..don’t think I want to see you right now’s “
and “GET THE FUCK OUT!!’s”…

without a question
he grabbed his coat
unsure why he’d done that, it was summer
but his mind was all confused
because he had to say something,
he had to tell her
something…

right?

Common Modifications

Words fly past your ears
to the empty space behind
while your eyes
intend to convince my heart
that it cannot possibly be  how I say, as I say
instead
that I remain a lie
everything about me, for me,
of me
a treacherous untruth concocted to drive you into your personal hell
and all I can do is sink further into myself
and quiet my voice
as it will otherwise go unheard
so
I bury my feelings, my thoughts, and beliefs
until they can no longer breathe or exist
and I become everything you want
to ensure your smile stays
and the smile that I plaster across my face
will cover my tragedy

 

One Hundred Degrees of Heartache

I don’t think I’ll survive here

Not with this kind of weather

Sweltering heat spread

thin like jam across my cheeks

Burnt pink

A little aloe goes a long way

but won’t take the flames from

your words, which are just as hot

Salty showers soak my forehead creases

While my furrowed brow struggles

to provide shade and understanding

to my confusion

Between you and me, I’ll be gone

by tomorrow

Like the breeze, I’ll blow through

Just enough to say I was here,

But not worth chasing

The Fight pt. 8

She took another step towards him,
slowly, like the speed of her tears
creeping down her face.
He hobbled backwards.
“Stay away from me,” he snarled
as he fell
back onto the cushions, the suede comfort
a reminder of his uncomfortable betrayal.
“I just-” she began, but paused.
She knew there was nothing she could say,
nothing she could do to fix this,
to fix them.
A quiver to her lip sent a spark to his groin
and as she backed away, all he could imagine
was pulling her closer.

The Fight pt. 7

Her arms hung tensely at her
sides, while his crossed fiercely at his chest.
A low hum began from the fridge
interrupting the hesitation stemming
from both ends.
He could feel her guilt emanating off of
her and it nauseated him.
Not because she broke him, but because
he deserved it.

 

The Fight pt. 6

“I need to know how this happened,”
he lied.
“I need details. I need EVERY detail.”
But he knew how it all happened,
how it all fell apart.
It was his fault after all,
but he couldn’t tell her that.
That was a secret he’d take to the grave.
He watched her suffer, watched her
soul get uncomfortable in her body.
He was angry and hurt evenly.
She took a step towards his towering frame.

“Please, don’t make me do this.”

The Fight pt. 5

She didn’t want to tell him.
The high octave of his voice
punched her in the chest.
He was hurting, and she could see it.
She owed it to him, she had to tell him.
Those same green eyes he fell in love with
moved away from his and escaped
quickly to the wood stained floor.
“Since June,” she barely whispered.
It was December.

 

The Fight pt. 4

He hesitated in moving towards her
unsure of if he’d hug her or
hurt her.
She was killing him,
and the longer she didn’t
answer, the more
holes he felt forming in his heart.
“HOW FUCKING LONG?”
he found himself yelling.
A wet tickle ran towards his chin.
His pain was showing.

Is This Love?

She sneaked the key strokes between
quick cuddles and kisses,
her mistress unknowing she’s second
fiddle at all.
“I’ll meet you in twenty,” she texted.
Forgiveness is something she figured
would fall into place,
like nothing ever did,
but she was living on the edge,
and she couldn’t help but enjoy
the rush and thrill of
doing so much wrong,
because she always did right.
And while she was caught in her
thoughts of excuses she’d find
and the kisses she’d
steal from her  lover in due time,
he turned to her and reminded her
of her admired beauty.
She thanked him with the same
lips that spewed the lies
and tucked her silenced phone back
into her pocket,
a twinge of remorse prowling through her veins.

__________________________________________________________________________
Dusted off and re-shelved after some time in the safe. I like this one, I hope you all enjoy it too. 🙂