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Tag Archives: love

December 22, 2012 5 haiku for people i loved before the end of the world

5 haiku for people I loved before the end of the world.

i.
We loved, then dissolved.
It took us a decade, but
we’re right back to us.

ii.
You tell everyone
I was the one who killed us.
Please leave me alone.

iii.
I hope you’re happy.
I’m still thinking about you.
It’s funny, really.

iv.
I wish Chicago
was not twelve hours away.
We could have been great.

v.
I still feel eighteen
when I fall asleep with you.
We should stay like this.

I wrote this poem before the apocalypse that never came (i’m here, i’m still here). beach sloth reviewed it, which you can read here.

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March 11, 2012 “I listened every time, I swear.”

You won’t find anyone who will listen to your stories like I did,
even if sometimes it seemed like I wasn’t listening at all,
and playing with your hair and poking at your cheeks instead,
I was listening, I swear I was.

I can remember what you said to me before we fell asleep
the last night we spent together,
I can remember the words you traced on my back
(“I love you,” 5 months before you ever said it out loud),
I remember the conversation we had at 3 a.m. after we fucked
and then couldn’t fall asleep, so we fucked again and said,
“thank you” to each other and finally closed our eyes.

I remember how your older brother makes you feel,
how you feel about your drug addict cousin
and how you drove to my house at midnight
when I thought my cat ran away and you told me
“everything’s going to be okay, really.”

I remember all of those times and the words you spoke,
I remember your mouth and the gap between your teeth,
the way your lips formed words and I listened every time, I swear.

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February 18, 2012 You said, “Someone still loves you,” but how could you know?

You said, “Someone still loves you,”
but how could you know?
How could you know if the someone wasn’t you,
if the feelings weren’t rising from the bag of bones
in front of me, boiling underneath the skin you call a body,
in the blood that I tasted when you let me kiss your fingertips
in the aftermath of our first afternoon together,
how could you know?

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February 12, 2012 Feel Free

Feel free to explain,
or tell me how your day was,
or tell me anything
that might help clarify
how I am supposed
to feel, to react
to your normal actions.

You’re an incessant ringing
in both of my ears,
a high-pitched note
that deafens me
and silences the world
until it begins
to sound like
the most beautiful song
I have ever heard.

I love you,
I have loved you,
every day
since I can remember
being myself.

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February 7, 2012 You Wouldn’t Have Had The Chance

I didn’t ask you to fall in love with me
but I guess I should have told you
about the warning signs.

When I smile at something in your direction,
I’m usually thinking about being at home.
When I smile into your eyes,
I’m thinking about how handsome
I think you are with a beard,
but how much I’d rather feel your face.

I took so many pictures of you
in that park with the dogs and the flowers
and everything was lovely, really,
but I wasn’t falling in love, no, maybe, no.

Maybe if I would have stayed home,
If I’d have stayed away,
you wouldn’t have had the chance
to love me.

I cry a lot at night thinking about
other people’s heartaches
and how much better, or how much worse,
they would feel if they knew that
all these tears were spilt for them.

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September 14, 2011 Nothing Foreign

We’re thousands of miles from where we’re from,
yet I can find nothing foreign about my hands,
my lips on your face.

We’re thousands of miles from what we used to know,
but I’m willing to learn something new,
if I can do it with you.

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