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Poetry

It was one of those nights you only dream about,

A scene in a movie you’d go a lifetime without.

Where everything was better than it had been in years,

With your eyes gleaming golden and music in my ears.

Yet somehow we fell apart in the days that followed,

You cut me off and handed me a bitter pill to swallow

And now I’m banging my heart against a wall,

It’s bruised and bleeding but I use it like a bouncy ball.

Because I don’t know how to stop running after you,

Even when my reflection in the mirror is black and blue,

I’ve been shooting off flares all week,

In hopes you’d find your way back to me.

Because it seems like we’re oceans apart,

Each day in exile continues to ravage my heart.

Memories of us when life felt perfect,

Haunt me like nightmares as I reflect,

On where things could have gone wrong,

When only weeks before we were humming along,

To a love song with the lights turned down low,

And your smile was the only thing making the room glow.

Now I lay restless in a pathetic drunken gloom,

Wishing I could be anywhere but alone in this room.

It’s not her velvet touch that pulls me in,

Or the curves that flow from head to toe.

It’s in the words she speaks as I eagerly listen,

It’s the galaxy within that makes her glow.

In a million years, I might never discover,

Every planet and star that makes up her soul.

But I would spend my days trying to uncover,

The mysteries that keep me coming back for more.

The soothing balm of cool night air

Kisses the wrinkles of our furrowed brows,

As we stand motionless in our bubbles,

Single file under the dazzling marquee,

Waiting to release what haunts us.

Outside we are still singular,

We don’t mingle, don’t touch.

But when the music begins,

We are an amalgamation,

Of varied walks of life,

Swaying together in concert,

With the beat of the drums,

And the melody of the vocals.

It brings us together,

Regardless of status or creed.

For one night, to your left and your right,

Stand allies in the fight.

I wake up only to sing the same routines

Double shot of espresso for the terrible dreams.

Fill my cup with honey to mask the bitterness,

Take a few pills to appease the sickness,

Try to choke some breakfast down,

As my self esteem continues to drown.

The lump in my throat won’t let much pass,

So I settle for some yogurt and an ice cold glass,

Of painful thoughts that circulate around my head,

They hover like a ghost that wants to see me dead

But I’m not willing to let go of this place,

I only want to learn how to forget a face.

I am in mourning…

Not because a loved one passed on,

but because I have a hole inside of me,

that once gleamed like burnished silver,

with diamond insets catching the light,

of a newly awoken sun.

It burned like the molten core of the earth,

flowing in rivers of golden ecstasy,

Filling every crevice of my body,

with an inimitable warmth.

The glow of what used to be,

is now a pulsating ember,

flickering in and out of existence,

teasing the end with its stuttering thoughts,

praying it could hold on a little longer,

though fate is quick to smother hope.

What wasn’t meant to be,

mustn’t be.

And so I go on,

missing a piece,

wishing for peace,

drinking myself to sleep.

I’m fairly confident that my heart is in fact an idiot.

My friends tell me to follow it, that it won’t lead me astray,

But boy would I beg to differ; my heart is a drunkard,

And if I heed its word one more time I may never recover.

The last time I succumbed to its siren song,

I wound up drinking malbec wine in a Mexican restaurant at noon.

Not to say the food wasn’t good, but when you play, Volver, Volver

A half dozen times on the barely functioning jukebox,

as you savor the last drops of glass number four,

it’s safe to say you’ve reached the lowest of lows.

At least from there I had nowhere else to go,

but up… until my heart had something else to say.

I swore that the first time you broke my heart would be the last,

Yet here I am trying to find the words to defeat this loneliness,

That follows me again as I try to give up on the thought of you.

You tried to give me hope where you knew none existed,

that’s what cuts the deepest, the feeling of chasing a ghost.

Some ethereal nothingness that you somehow gave life to,

Feigning just the right amount of affection to keep me hooked,

Planting words like seedlings that spread their roots,

From my heart to my fingertips like a fatal ventriloquist.

But your veil could never last forever if it faced resistance.

I started to question the smoke you’d cast over my doubts,

Massaging them with promises you never meant to keep,

Until I wrenched myself from the grip of your influence.

Still, I sit here not vindicated but somehow feeling guilty,

Because I should have known where this road was going,

I knew all of the signs and cautions along the way,

Yet I still thought I was strong enough to break through

To what I thought was the real you.

It was your graduation party.
I remember pulling up in my used car,
Taking in the mass of luxury vehicles,
Lining your street.
Each one went up in value,
The closer they got to your house.
“I’m out of my league”
I thought.
But I guess I knew before,
I arrived.
You said you wanted me there,
The reason why,
was questionable.
Told me I helped you get through school,
With my minor edits to your essays,
And the occasional last minute ride
To class.
Really, it was all you.
Always said you were smarter
Than you gave yourself
Credit for.
You sought knowledge,
Unlike the others I had known,
Whom thought they
Had it all figured out.
You are not like them…
It was hell to be there though,
With your family, your new lover,
Whom I don’t remember,
He didn’t last long though.
Then there was me,
The old baggage.
My gift to you was our favorite wine,
After I explained its history,
A couple years before,
On your birthday.
I remember you were fascinated by it.
That smile you showed then was,
Intoxicating,
More so than the wine itself.
My heart has been
Hopeless since then.
I didn’t want to stay
For the bottle opening,
But you insisted.
I felt a pain like nothing
before or since.
It wasn’t just the sickness,
Slowly taking over my body.
That was something else
Entirely.
But this pain was formidable
Enough that I gulped my glass
Of stars
Like an alcoholic
After the cork popped.
Then I made my escape.
Said I didn’t feel well.
It was the truth.
Not long after,
My mom rushed me to
The emergency room:
Atrial fibrillation,
Among other things.
I was almost grateful,
If I’m honest.
It was a good reason to
Stay away.
And so I did.
I healed up nicely,
My mind even felt brand new.
Only took a few
years.
But you didn’t forget me,
It seemed.
And so the cycle renewed.
It didn’t take long,
For those old embers to reignite,
The rusted furnace of
my soul,
At a dinner you arranged
For us, and oddly, your mother.
She didn’t help the situation:
When you excused yourself
To freshen up,
Your mother told me she,
Wished you and I got married,
Because apparently,
You spoke mighty highly
Of me,
Quite often.
Ain’t that a hoot?
Didn’t know what to say,
A timid “Thank you?”
Is all that came out.
So I concluded that
Our relationship,
If that’s an appropriate term,
Wasn’t ending anytime soon,
And there was no point in
Running away.