maybe you’re dying inside
little by little
the problems of the day, of the week
eating at you until you feel broken
but you’re only just a little bent
at least that’s how it appears
from the outside
the strain only showing
to someone looking closely
I’m tripping now over my thoughts
cause you are looking so good to me
I can’t imagine anything better
except maybe let’s turn down the lights and we can discuss it at length
we’ll sort through any difficulties
work out some good solutions
just try to let go
of some frustrations
let me help
I know it’s dark now
but it’ll be morning again
before we know it
catalyst
“Have I lost you?” he asked.
“I was never yours to lose,” she answered. “Not really.”
He wondered how that could be when he had memorized the curve of her face and could decipher at least seven of her smiles.
She shifted in her seat, looking ready to bolt. He was reminded of a racehorse chomping at the bit to get out of the gate. But she was no thoroughbred. She was a very damaged human being. How could she leave?
“Where will you go?” he asked.
She stopped her scanning of the room and looked at him directly. She held his gaze a moment before saying softly, “Does it matter?”
He wanted it to matter. He wished the time they had spent meant something.
“Can’t we just go back and…”
She cut him off. “There’s no going back, just like there’s no taking back the things you said.”
“But don’t you see,” he pleaded, “those vicious words were not for you. I was full of those words before you came along. Those same words brought you to me. You’re helping me pour them out.”
She looked down at the ground.
He almost whispered, “Don’t you want to see how the story ends?”
She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.
He crooked a finger under her chin and met her halfway with a kiss.
Gentle. Quiet.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
She wavered for another moment and then said “I can’t let you destroy me.”
“I won’t.”
They stood another moment looking at each other, each realizing they had put their heart in the other ‘s hands. Their heads full of stories, they turned and walked home.
The lovely people at Yareah have published another poem of mine. Please take a gander at this interesting site!
http://yareah.com/2013/10/2292-poetry-seedy-ballad-word-rummager/
the chase
you knocked the wind out of my sails
just when I could breathe again
lulled into complacency
you flipped a switch
and there we were
facing each other
over the dinner table
you were angry
fisting a piece of paper
as if you’d wring the pulp out of it
I watched your eyes
and I was stunned by the swirling
the depravity I witnessed
in those depths
I was no longer dealing with a man
but an animal overwrought by rage
it was terrifying
I had to gauge how many steps
to the kitchen door
to the running car on the side of the road
waiting to whisk me away
would I make it, I wondered
or would it end in a kitchen bloodbath
would it make the small town newspaper
how long before it was hushed and forgotten
it felt like hours of thought
but it was only a few minutes
trying to speak
you wouldn’t allow even that
with your jaw clenched tight
and the threat still hovering in the air
I was young and could run fast
but you were insane again
so you had powers I couldn’t touch
we watched each other
across the table
you only had to give the slightest move
and I was gone, turning, running as fast as I could
up the short hill
toward the car where my friend was screaming
run!
she leaned over and opened the door
as she slowly started moving
I leaped and tumbled into the front seat
hindered by your grasp of my leg
but I kicked free
and you bent the car door
as it pulled away
and you were forced to let go
conceding was not in your vernacular
this would continue
another day
another quiet street
tainted and corrupted by you
and your inadequate show of affection
it was and never will be a way to win me
for though I am made of strong stuff
apparently
I really like softness and gentleness
and you can never get beneath
the silky steel of my armor again
painless
nothing takes the edge off the pain
it’s felt like this before
I’ve tried all the usual things
and it’s only been dulled a bit
so I watch my own fingers
swim through the dust swirling light
forming words to explain
something that doesn’t quite make sense yet
like waking up after a vivid dream
but not remembering within seconds
I feel changed in some way
tainted by the pain
am I hallucinating
or has my body turned into a work of art sketched by Picasso, colored by Munch, sculpted by Man Ray
I don’t want anyone to see my eyes
because I don’t want the ensuing pity
I try to read some favorite chapters
but the words do tricks on the page
they spell different things than I remember
so I try to look out the window
but the layers of clouds are moving
in different directions
like before a big storm
but the sun’s rays still penetrate
so I close my eyes
but feel instantly trapped within myself
with thoughts of reds and drums and fire
and I want to scream
but like a drowning mime the thought of that sound hurts
the only thing now is to wait
for time will heal, right?
The Word Rummager 