M.G.B

Your lips

Look like something I could float on

And when u laugh

That dimple winks at me

As if it knows I’m waiting for it

And if I’m close enough

I can hear your heartbeat

A rhythmic melody

A Smooth and consistent lullaby.

And your hands

Textured and thoughtful

Creeping up my thigh

Just enough to get warm.

I let them stay there long enough

And then I push them to their destination.

So you can explore me in detail

And turn me into a poem.

Fights Aways Start With Always.

Always

You start it with an always.

It comes from the bridge you walk over

Of things you said you’ve forgotten

And you carry that always

Right there in your pocket

And as heavy as it may be

You wield it

Eternally

And then it rains so thunderously

Lightening

and you frighten me

You swear it’s always what I do

You tower over me

and I shout to you

I thought we forgave each other

I forgive you and you add another

To your suitcase you carry through

Our relationship is something blue.

You always do this

I never do.

Mind Glitches

I’m floating in

a space between

What I am today

What I could’ve been

What has gone away

What can come again

Am I being seen

I am never here.

I’m focusing

On my yesterday’s

What I should’ve done

When I didn’t run

What I meant to say

What you took away

What happens now

Upon this cloud

I’m floating on.

The day is done.

I start again.

I’m never here.

My mind.

It’s been

Locked away

And day to day

I look away

To yesterday.

I am never here.

Balloons.

There’s an apartment on the corner,

Graffiti on the cement

The gate is weak and leaning towards the dead grass.

An eye-roll for those who worry about the beauty of the neighborhood

 

A mom lives there.

With a contorted heart

She threw herself to the soil

so she can hold hands with her little boy.

She looks from the window.

 

Small balloons on the sidewalk.

Disney Characters smiling at me.

They don’t belong here.

They float on a string tied around a candle.

A white Jesus with his hands outstretched.

He doesn’t belong here, either.

 

A black boys picture hidden between the small teddy bears

holding satin hearts.

Every time I drive by I look out the corner of my eye

Trying to ignore it.

Like everyone else.

Like everything else.

I don’t belong here.

Gypsophilia

I keep my eyes closed when I think about you.

So maybe I’ll wake up and the reason my heart beats this fast will be because of a dream.

Because you’ve chased me with a knife made of stories I’ve told you.

And you know it’ll cut me

Deep.

Cause you still haunt me.

So you chase me until we’re exhausted

and I try to reason with you

I shield the wrong part of myself

I’ve fallen in the garden we’ve made together in spring

Nothing has grown in months

Except for these white flowers that brides hold.

But I wake up

And it still hurts.

I shouldn’t have given you that knife