fragile

When you look at me
With those wolfish eyes
A gaze so intense
And unbidden
You seem to see right
Into me
Gazing with sadness
Upon my fragile heart
Tattered, purple, frayed and
Shattered pieces
That cling to one another
By means of cheap scotch tape
And with each struggling
Beat
It pleads,
“Please, Handle me
With care.”

in the mourning

Get some sleep, darling
Things will look better
In the mourning
Things will look better, and
Nobody will know
Don’t worry that your eyes
Are bleeding
And your face is sullen
And swollen with fright
Nobody will notice your throbbing
Head
Or your quivering, lonely lip
Nobody will notice that your
Wings have been clipped
Girl, you’re grounded now
Get some sleep, Love
Things will look better
In the mourning

train wreck

Love, you’re like a train wreck
And I knew
I knew I should’ve never
Stepped aboard
Love, you’re like a train wreck
And the odds of survival
Are slim
I should exit while I can
First instincts always win
But at the door, I pause
I want to believe you
I want to believe the tracks
Do not end
But my defense mechanism
Has been activated
And now my heart is scared
And unsure
Perhaps if I detach myself
From all that you mean
Perhaps if I convince myself
You never meant anything
You said
But I know your truth . . . I know
You did
Love, you’re like a train wreck
And I don’t know
If I can stay aboard

salted

You’re like salt
on an old wound, Love,
A scab that I’ve been
Picking at for years.
But, Sweetheart, this
nervous habit is getting boring.
And Lately, you’ve been drawing
So much blood . . .
With every word unspoken
Every commitment disappointed
Every goodnight kiss lost
And every time I walk to my car
All alone . . .
There’s so much blood.
Is this always what it feels like
When you fall in love?
This is always what happens
When I fall in love.
Perhaps I shouldn’t
Fall in love . . .
There’s just too much
Blood.

another lonely wednesday

“He’s letting you down easy.
Get out while you still have
What’s left of your heart
And your dignity,” she says.
“You’re so naïve,” he says,
“he only wanted sex, and now
He wants out.”
“There are other fish in the sea,”
She says, “You’ve been out four times already,
And today, Matt called you Beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he says, “He doesn’t realize,
How lucky he is.”
“Yes,” she agrees, “He doesn’t see
Your value, anymore.”
And silence engulfs me,
As I digest these sharp words
And try to swallow them whole,
Chasing them down with tepid tears.
“But he asked me to the party!”
I argue, “besides, you don’t even know,
I‘m willing to take things slow.”
“He only wants a piece, you’re so naïve.”
And I have to leave
So they won’t see the tears, stinging
My swollen eyes.
“Come out, come out,” they say,
“We just don’t want to see you hurt.”
Well it’s too late for that now,
Isn’t it?
And you aren’t, are you . . . ?
And you do, don’t you . . . ?
And why do I . . . ?
And why can’t I just walk away
While my head can still be held high?
Because I miss you
I just can’t toss you away
I miss your kisses
And your roguish smile
And our giggles
And how ticklish you are
And our long conversations in each other’s arms
And the stupid smile
That grazes my face in the morning
After 3 hours of sleep
On Wednesday.
So how do I throw
All of that away?
How do I face
Another lonely Wednesday?

tripping

There is a wall between us
Of unspoken words and
Lost embraces
And lonely walks home
And doubting hearts
And defensive ones too
And teary nights spent
All alone
Of surface conversations
And unspoken accusations
And this stupid game
In which we’re now inclined
to play.
And its pushing a wedge
So far between us
So lets make a deal
A despondent compromise
I’ll let down my defenses
You calm your fears
No more absent phone calls
No more hasty conclusions
Lets take things slow
As in the original plan
This time
Lets drift slowly into love
Instead of tripping

moonstruck

Watching Moonstruck
Made me sad.
Ronny reminds me
So much of you:
Strong, masculine physique
Yet such a gentle touch.
A man whose deep torment
Is manifested in intense eyes;
Blue or grey, depending on the sun.
Manner and appearance
Reminiscent of
A beautiful, but lonely wolf.
One who fell so unknowingly
Into love’s trap
So frightened that he chewed off
His own leg
To get away.
I never meant to trap you,
Only to keep you for my own.
Forgive me, love,
I was moonstruck.

p.s. i miss you

I know by now
I should be over you,
My longing should be gone
My tears shed no more.
But it seems
My decision to end it
Was rash
Because I fear
It has only just begun:
I miss you.

hungry

Empty eyes stare back at me
And sullen lips part
In pleading silence
As a tear drop hits the floor
I’m not sure my heart is beating
On its own anymore.
My belly is hollow now
And I’m starving for the love
That once, we gorged ourselves upon
When you fed me pretty words
and glances
Each one encrusted with glitter
Pink, and sparkley . . .
(You knew I couldn’t resist!)
My insides ache
For the love we devoured
But at this point, I’d even settle
For the latter crumbs.

the breakdown

up till three
quiz at eight
knots in my back
and grinds of my teeth
swollen ankles and
throbbing feet
thinning face and
have i eaten today?
laundry overflowing
funds depleting
sanity going
midterms and projects
meetings and interviews
and shifts I’m far too qualified
to endure
this was all so much easier
with your strong arms
to hold me

fine print

I read you my fine print
and I gave you my heart.
I handed you, so trustingly,
your chopping blade of choice.
You’re leaning now
with a sharp serrated edge,
pricking me with each
shallow breath.
You’re taunting me
dangling joy on a gold chain,
just beyond the reach
of my lips
disguising your indiscretion
with sparkling words
and shiny advances.
Finally, you place my hand
from the safety of your own
back into my lonely lap.
You’ve stopped calling now
the bell is without your voice.
I don’t know what happened
and I can’t help but ask. . .
Was it too much to handle?
Was it just too much to take?
Did you ever stop to think
It was my heart that was at stake?
Was it too complicated?
Not what you expected?
Boy, every pretty face
Comes with a catch.

misplaced

I left my hat
at your house once
to ensure
a next-day call-back.
It worked.
But last night
I suddenly realized
I left my heart
on your dresser
and you never called.

wilson

There is a wonderful man
in all of my classes
with an innate sense of fashion
and broken hearts.
We competed the first week of
linguistic enlightenment,
to see who could win
the best dressed award.
(that they’ve not given out
since high school!)
The second week came
and he has since given up.
My victory is bittersweet—
For now,
since I’ve lost you
as well as Wilson
whom might I get dressed for?