love, part 9202

we maybe stopped a hundred times before

looking in the shaded sky the sinking moon

smelling in the air a brew of dirt and dew

listening in puddles the patter of a dying drizzle

we maybe got to the hundred and first

feeling in the breeze dust on our faces

when i thought it made sense to trade

my withered band of grass with one of some ore.

it could have been- any

it could have been- any
one, three, boy or many
but your eyes in the gloom
of the half-lit room
they softly said to me

that it with the blonded crown
hiding under a tainted gown
a bump, a sore, a painted hip
hissing love through a swollen lip
was the else that was me previously

in some kind of tragic
i thought was masochistic
to appreciate the poetry
that i had much rather be
the one, the three, the boy or the many.

love, part 667

it's a certain smell
that makes me think of you
it's a mixture of shampoo
and air freshener
of rain before dawn
and cigarettes in water
of freshly dried clothes
and damp earth
of rusting metal
and overheated computer parts
i wouldnt call it pleasant or nasty
be it the smell or the memory
i do not remember what i was
when i knew somebody like you.

love, part 3

think the broken dryer did it
was it the dreaded whir that couldnt get it started
was it because nothing seemed to work that day
our laughter filled the cold air
the others must have heard
you'd get stuff like that you said
i shrugged, held your hand quiet
we havent always been like that
you pulled me down the steps
skipped past the band to the bench
smiling silly to yourself
was it the night that was only beginning
was it my hand in yours
i thought i'd kill to keep you safe
i thought, we havent always been like that.

love, part 28

the night was a dull red
yellowed leaves were falling down
the orange street light and
on the road like fireflies i said
like souls into a fiery pit you said
i couldnt think of anything
but how the lights made paths in the cool air
and how they looked like fur balls when i squinted my eyes
how much oranger they were compared to halogen bulbs
how they lit up the side of your face i couldnt see
how i wouldnt mind living in the shadows
if i had you to tell me what the light was like.

love, part 673

my hands clutched against my knees
i stutter, crack bad jokes, sit awkwardly
i never let a moment of silence pass
cautious not to be uncool, i think you think i am
trying a little too hard to be that
girl you saw strut past the plaza
but now we sit in silence
and you think i'm boring
but i'm not at all
i'm not at all

so i try a little harder
to show you i'm not
not that into you.

so this is what it feels like, to know so well what wasn't there was. to see so clearly, feel so strongly, the voices in the day are playing in my pillow but no, i doubt they are. no, my senses they fail me. no, there is no courtyard if i climbed through the ceiling, though you'd wish there was. what wasn't there, i would swear now, was.

so this is what it feels like.