Miss You (7/30/18)

I miss you.
All the goddamn time.
Even when you’re in the room,
I miss you.

I once told you this,
but now that luxury is gone.

I suffer alone
with the immensity,
the missing.

The knowing that everyone now gets
more of you
than I ever will again.

Always Been (8/16/18)

I think of the irreversible damage of a mother not holding her child;
of blame and abuse from birth–
and I know no one really is ever okay after something like that.

Then, I think of myself,
loved and rocked from womb to walking–
showered in affection and praise.

I naively fall right onto men’s laps and into their arms–
not understanding the harm
that is incurred later in life when you used to trust
and now know it’s always been a lie.

Space

It was better when there was space

and mystery

You didn’t know the contours of my thighs
Nor delighted gasps when fingers find 

I didn’t wait for your words with bated breath
Like a child’s Christmas Eve
I didn’t feel the hollow in my heart
Every time you come and leave 

Survival of the Ill-Fittest

Based on principle
I’ve been cast away
Not fit for the role of your go-to lover
I’ve always dreamed of more

All of the love notes
All of the quiet kisses
All of the hours spent
Wishing we were near each other

The phone calls
Where our voices aroused the other
The support
The effort
The time
So much damn time

It was all for nothing
For the very thought of commitment scares you

Not the forever-longs
Not the incomparable
Not the most beautiful and special girl
Not the way we feel high whenever we talk or think of another

Not even finally finding someone worth your time is enough

It’s all a matter of principle
Your rule you’ve made to survive

There’s a Man

There’s a man.
His hair wispy like a model’s, looking perfect in pictures.
My favorite part is how disheveled it gets when we are naked;
Strands bouncing up and down with each passionate grunt.

There’s a man.
I only get small glimpses of what our life would be:
Giggles in the bedroom.
Hand-holding across busy city intersections.
Sushi at a small restaurant in Brooklyn.
Eyes that see me first when he wakes.

There’s a man.
The way I cherish him is different.
I would kiss every tiny freckle on his face if I saw him each day;
I’ve uttered my most heart-felt to my bedroom walls at night,
because he’s hours away.

There’s a man.
He’s one long longing.
No one I desire more and no one further from my reach.
More time apart than together; our moments, fleeting and glittery.

There’s a man I love.
I probably always will.
He never seems to let me go.
For that, alone, I love him still.