Tuesday, June 23, 2009

sine qua non

i jumped aboard your deadlock gaze
and i pushed you with one finger,
to the ground.
i said all the things I've never said,
i said all the most important tiny things:
all the pieces that make up
everything I've ever felt.
it feels as though we have been sorting for decades and
the file folders sit finally,
labeled neatly on our laps
anticipating our next move.
I jumped aboard your deadlock gaze
and I'm digging in my heels this time,
not letting it get away
not letting it wander.
you said,
give me three days.
these lapses are unintentional and
I'm not holding anything against you
because we are both the person
the other will be forgiving forever
in a world full of unforgivables
full of forgettables.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Shark Tank.

he traced a heart with his finger on my chest 
and drew a line from the heart down my arm
like a target for your air pistol.
your indifference took aim and fired.
There are too many unanswered what-ifs
and raw nerves dangling for me to see you anymore.
I sit here wracked with anxiety and running out of oxygen
at the bottom of a shark tank filled with sharks we trained together.
The quiet swooshes of my heart and their tails in unison have become
a dull ache reminder of what could have been.