No matter how many days go by
How many times I breathe
It still stings
like a thousand needles shooting out
From the corner of my heart where I shoved you
To keep the rest of my soul safe
When memories get triggered
Because you didn’t have to smile at meAnd your grin’s the sweetest I’ve ever seen
And I swore that I was waiting for you all my life
But I wasn’t your Honeybee
And I know now that I wasn’t crazy
Because someday my pain will mark you
Harness your blame and walk through
There will be no closure
Twas nice to know you
Don’t bother me
Come on, come in just a little bit closer so that I can
Smell your pheromones secreting from every pore
Til I can taste that onion bagel and stale coffee that you had for breakfast on my own tongue
I want you so close that our shoes tie their own laces together, like fingers intertwining
because they thought they’d found their match
I need to identify you with my eyes closed by the lingering scent of cigarettes and deodorant and cheap musk that I can’t name because I’m not familiar enough with colognes
Your finger prints are razors on my skin, each ridge leaving papercut imprints that last for days after your touch and sting when I wash my hands
What’s your favorite lyrics by your favorite band? What is your favorite band? Do you eat hot sauce on everything? Can you go on the Power Tower ten times but won’t step foot on the rickety white roller coaster? What are you afraid of? What is your best quality? Your worst quality? What do you do when you can’t sleep at night? Do you look for certain qualities in your women? Do I have any of those qualities? Are you even aware you have these benchmarks for women?
“Here’s your coffee…”
“Do you think we’re meant to feel small?” Her voice was quiet and shaky. She kept toying with a long blade of grass that she had ripped from the ground.
You can’t run your frozen fingers along my torso as I stretch
Or lick your lips and raise your eyebrows
Stare at my waist and hips when I wear a sweater and jeans
Instead of the t-shirt and yoga pants I’d been so accustomed to
You can’t use words like “the last thing I need” in reference to another girl
But tell me you’re buying a new shirt for your date with her
You can’t lie to me through your teeth
Denying your intentions and
Intrigue through incredulity
That radiates from you more than your body heat
When you sleep
You can’t do any of this because for once
Someone can read your insecurities
Just as you can read theirs
Her breathing slowed, chest swelling with every surge of the cellos, shivering at the release of tension in the violins.
"It’s the first day of spring / and my life is starting over again"
Was it? It felt like winter here, on the cold tile.
"For I do believe / that everyone / has one chance / to fuck up…their lives
Like a cut down tree / I will rise again / and I’ll be bigger…and stronger than ever / before”
The lingering pause lulled her but each time his voice rang again, she wanted more.
"I’m still here hoping that one day you may come back"
The smoothness of his voice, the reassurance of hoping, of future, pacified her gasps of trepidation. And again the cello cut through the night, their mournful wails made tranquil by the staccato rapping of the drum and metallic twang of guitar.