Tell Me How You Really Feel #27

I come home every
night, to a cold, lonely bed.
I fucking hate you
for dying before I could
divorce your Kool-Aid drunk ass.

Odi et amo.
You, always, my Lesbia.
Nescio? Why? Why?
I understand naught. You. Me.
Truth, strength, pain. Eternity.

 Feelings are for fools
I climb atop the dais
receive my award
shiny, new, EGOT. Worthless.
I place it with your ashes.

You’re not my idol.
Never were, never will be.
You were my dessert
I was yours. Now? A pillar
of salt, rubbed into my wounds.

Behind the steering
wheel of your car, I am blind.
Still, I avoid trains
other cars, and concrete walls.
You can rot in hell. Alone.

Sonnet 43's Bastard Child

I love you like bad poetry
like every beautiful phrase turned trite
every sonnet over parsed and overworked
every donut flung into the sky
only to fall to earth, with a jelly splat

I love you to the depth of the moon
and the breadth of a garlic bread morning after
dunked in coffee, regular, left to ferment
on the nightstand
like gum affixed to a bedpost

I love you like Shakespeare
recited by a once fine gentleman
holding a cardboard sign
begging for a sandwich, a tuppence
repentance

I love you in words silent
and clanking through
an ancient copper pipe
to a disconnected viaduct

I love you in prayer notes
tucked into the Wailing Wall
and in notes found
by an injured spouse

I love you in all the ways
we never spoke of
while we were both alive
and breathing was a kiss

 

 

Turn

Waiting at the red light
This is the turn
the right turn I took
so many nights
after the bars closed
after everyone went
somewhere
with someone

I, alone, in my car
waiting for the light to turn
but I hang a right on red
driving on instinct
on muscle memory
not sure if my eyes are open
at this after hours after hour
until I pull into your drive

And I don’t know how you knew
how you always knew
sitting on the porch
with two steaming hot cups of tea
on the small round table

Maybe its been a week
Maybe a month, two months, three months
Maybe yesterday
Since I pulled into your drive

You’re waiting for me
You open my door
fold me into you
I breathe you in

We stand
until I feel safe enough to sit
The tea has gone tepid
We drink anyway
We sit there, on your porch
the sky pinks
the stars disappear