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.
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.
Once again I’m where I was
My mission of love has no cause
No longer a fight for what I believe
I’ll pass the baton and take my leave
ridiculous
how we learn to carry and
adapt to these new affections
only to shed these skins
and forget they ever
happened
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
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.
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.
Of course, I miss your laugh, your eyes, your voice
The hugs, the intimacy, the games, and the music
Of course, I hurt inside when I know you’re out with someone else
And of course, I wish I were there perpetually
Instead of here all by myself
Those things sting enough, but what hits me hardest
Is the unexpected– the innocuous moment
Or so it seems
When a can of corned beef hash
On the top shelf stares down at me
I look at my bookcase and see my ex-lovers, lined up.
They haven’t been touched in months; some, years.
Stiff and neglected.
I hesitate to press open the pages and hear that crack the binding makes.
That means I have to commit.
The more time that passes, the easier it is to walk by without guilt.
It’s like I never knew them.
Inside of my heart, amidst the clutter of other small tragedies, lies the reality that I am no longer the generous lover of collected words.
I am the girl with a shelf of skeletons who remind her of her failure to follow through.
Drops of luminescence beat the ground
After a cold night
In a Spring sun
I awoke with frost on my heart
Warm, tired tears
In a sunless, embracing bed
We always seemed shocked and angered
by the snow’s fall
After a pleasant day
I’m done being fooled by the chill,
by the icy words
that follow a once enchanting summer
My Fight for Love 