Missing You

I don’t miss you.

The way you judged me, laughed at my dreams.

The way you belittled me, made me feel worthless.

I don’t miss the fighting,

the crying and spending nights wondering where you were;

hoping you’d come home.

I don’t miss your drunken rants,

your control over me.

I miss the nights we spent,

in bed, needing nothing but the two of us.

I miss having someone to hold me when I cry,

celebrate with me when I’m happy,

and do nothing with me when it’s just that kind of day.

I miss waking up next to someone every morning,

and hearing “I love you” right before I fall asleep.

I miss sleeping in the safety of someone’s arms,

where nothing could ever touch me.

But most of all I just miss knowing that someone was there.

No matter when or why, if I needed you-

You were there.

That’s what I miss, 

but we’ll never go back to that.

You’re not the person I knew and loved

and one day I hope you can reclaim him.

The Paradise of Strangers

“The Paradise of Strangers”

Eyes lock across a crowded room,

Glance broken by a passerby,

as hope forms in her heart.

A life flashes before her eyes,

Their first date, romantic and candle lit

followed by a walk on the warm sand.

The proposal, him nervously kneeling in front of her

Praying she’ll say yes.

The wedding, her beautiful white gown

him carrying her into the honey moon suite.

The starter home with a white picket fence

and a puppy bouncing around the yard.

The nights of unbridled, passionate love making

That eventually lead to-

A pregnancy, 9 month of discomfort to bring about:

their first child, a boy.

Naturally followed by another, a girl.

The perfect family, she can see herself:

waving the kids off to school,

making them snacks,

listening to their days,

having dinner on the table,

waiting till he gets home

smiling at the sound of his car in the drive way

and his classic “Honey, I’m home!” from the foyer.

She watches them send their children off to college,

Harvard and Yale, only the best.

Him holding her as she cries, sad to see her babies go.

The empty nest, where she has time to rediscover herself,

becomes full again with his retirement,

and the children coming home for the summers.

She imagines their children’s weddings,

the grand kids.

Growing old together,

watching the sunset from the porch swing,

arms around each other,

still as in love as the day they got married.

He comes back into view,

a girl walks up and kisses him on the cheek,

the engagement ring glinting in the dim bar light.

Ah, the paradise of being strangers!

Where possibilities are endless,

and heart break is only in your imagination.

How to Break a Heart: An Instructional Poem

How to break a heart: An instructional poem.

It’s very easy you see,

First you bat your eyes,

and give a shy little smile.

Tell a few white lies,

and just wait a while.

Play your cards right,

they’ll quickly be hooked.

They’ll call every night,

come running with just one look.

When this happens its time,

you’ll know when.

Dig a little deeper see what you can find

get some dirt and then.

Use it as black mail,

to get them to bend to your will.

If you’ve done it right, they’ll

be hooked on you still.

They’ll give you whatever you want,

and this becomes quite a bore

So it’s time to end this taunt,

And let them go, or;

you can keep them hanging on

and have others on the side.

You know you’ve really won,

if they stay on for the ride.

Eventually you must,

end things with this boy.

If he leaves first it just

ruins the joy.

The satisfaction in heart breaking

is one in its own.

Especially if they make their aching

publically known.

So be without pity,

when playing with hearts.

Just know that you’re pretty,

and always be smart.

When it rains, it pours.

Possibly to be continued...I'll have to revisit it

When it rains, it pours.

The acid strips away skin,

baring souls to the world:

the lonely, the desperate,

the heart broken, the hopeful.

They cannot hide their pain, joy, sorrow.

They are an open book,

for the world to read,

whether they want it that way or not.

Strangers passing can feel the heat of their emotions,

it draws them in; roots them to the ground.

They become one in love, lust, anger.

Wrapped so deep they forget who belongs to

the fear, envy, suffering.

Waiting

I stood there,

arms held high, ready to embrace.

Waiting,

for you to come back to me.

I watched the leaves change-

arms slowly dropping with every one that hit the ground.

Waiting,

for you to come back to me.

Then the cold came.

Still I stood,

statuesque,

feet frozen to the ground.

Waiting,

for you to come back to me.

The sun beat down on me.

Thawed my body with the blooming spring,

opened my heart as the crocuses peeked through the greening grass.

I drop my stiffened arms,

pry my feet from their icy trap, and

turn my face towards the sun.

It sinks below the trees,

the sky alight with purples, pinks, and oranges.

The spring air is refreshing.

and I am no longer

Waiting,

for you to come back to me.

There's Only Up from Here

Lying in a pool of blood,

life having kicked you in the teeth,

addiction rules everything,

whether it’s-

Love, lust, drugs, or alcohol.

Glancing up from you’re insignificant position,

the rain drops start to fall,

swirling with your blood.

You watch the patterns form

think to yourself, with false hope,

there's only up from here.

The First Page

The blank page stares at me.

Crisp. Clean.

Taunting with its perfection

whispering, "Put your pen to me.

Mar my surface with your impure thoughts.

Your failed attempts at imagery, to be deep,

meaningful. Scribble your life away!

Keep trying to find the perfect words, but only being able to

WRITE. CROSS OUT. WRITE

Cover me with your blasphemous ideals,

your inadequacy, your pain.

Write what ever you will across this first page,

because the first time is always the hardest.

Once you get past me, possibilities are endless."

I glance down, after too many wrong words,

only 3 remain

I Loved You...

I smile, close the book, my journey can begin another day.

The first page is always the hardest.

Now that I've conquered it, I can do anything.

Stay

I want to be able to love again:

To rush blindly into the arms of another,

to look at the future and not see an end,

and to find someone who makes me stronger.

Yet every day, I wake alone,

and push away ones who try to come near.

A side of me I’ve never shown

is hidden by my deepest fear.

You tell me that you’ll stay,

but I know you’ll leave.

So, for the moment, we’ll just lay

and I’ll try to believe

that you’ll still be there when morning dawns,

limbs tangled with the silky sheets.

In my heart, you’re already gone.

I’ve already accepted defeat.

After a prompt "What good is a day..."

So it's kind of corny and I'm not sure how I feel about this one...

What good is a day if you can’t spend it,

With your favorite book, a hot cup of coffee

A slow burning cigarette,

watching the smoke as it curls upward getting lost in the sun.

What good is a day if you can’t spend it.

Sweat dripping down your face,

You lick your lips and taste the salt.

Feel your skin sticking to each other,

Curves of your body perfectly matched.

What good is a day if you can’t spend it

in bed, curled up with the love of your life,

Talking nonsense

Lost among the pillows and in each other’s eyes.

What good is a day?