degrees of magnitude

You say when you think of me
it’s with nostalgia
a surreptitious smile
spreads across your flushing face

When I think of you
frustration, despair, shame and desire
fuse into a howl of longing
I grimace and cringe

with teeth clenched
waiting for each wave of pain
to finish pounding me
into the dirt by degrees


saving grace

and when our wired limbs
crossed and snagged on intent
were done releasing their tensions
you lay, hair frayeď
mouth splàyed open
with no remorse
for the stains that drained
deodorant clumped
under arms raised
without grace
to take more space
than earned
I took in the waste
grateful for the image
that would serve
to move me past and on
once you would wake
to be so much less
than what I made of you

daily post: patina

about the shape of it

Life goes on
just like before
only my heart won’t
When it dared expand
beyond its bounds
and nothing came of it,
it squeezed tight
and all it contained
poured out
and drained
into the ground
and now it sags
and I must drag it
through the day
and tuck it under
the sheets at night
so it wont wake
cold and startled.
I entice it
with easy goals
and small wishes
to coax it
into some vague form
but it’s too old
to try inflating
too distended
to be filled
with sparse morsels
and pale shadows
of what it held.
It billows and drapes
over nothingness


I saw you in that car
parked in the dark
your face a half lit moon
gazing at the screen
your finger hovering
ready to delete and move on

Your face reflected a world
of pain and joy
suspended in a void
an alternate universe
being destroyed

I envied your strength
to pinch it to black
as I wished I had done
a whole lifetime back
when I could still hope
time would erase and replace
the empty space 
with new wonders
instead of a glowing
screen gone blank


if my love were a painting
it would be a splash of red so pure
I’d waste endless canvas
tiling walls in ruddy grey
if only to recapture
some muddy tint or shade

if my love were a song
there’d be a painful strain
just a part of the refrain
and l would squawk
and screech all  night
just to hit that note again

but my love was a touch
in the dark
that brought to light
what ought to stay buried
or shoved out of sight

my love was insistent
it bore like worm
prying you open
with flattering words
pricking and prodding
your conscience to wake
and take a stand

my love was high strung
with intricate lines
to slice you up
and cut you down
how else could I get over you


I wish I could blame it
on media and capitalism
and patriarchy and classism
or some other ideal of no worth
but all the abuse
and deception I’ve brooked
was born from this need
to be loved

daily prompt: ascend

half full

I’ve lost my taste for diluted wine
And all that once appeased

Anything less than my desire fulfilled
Is just a pointless tease

Sometimes some is better than none
Or so they say from above

But who want just half of a heart
Or just a bit of love

No, I won’t succumb to winks and hints
of what may never come

Anything less than full to the brim
Won’t ever be enough

daily post


It’s been a long while
still I have no reply
no witty comment
or probing remark
no sorry confession
my words have run dry

I could write you a story
from all I have seen
as I look for a way
to conjure a need
that only more words
could never relieve

But more time
would be wasted
circling that spot
where so much was lost
or left to rot
that all benign thought
has forsaken it
so I too will pretend
I simply forgot

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