Replies of Chloride

It makes me wonder

With every bitter word you say to me now

If the love I poured into your soul

Still burns on your tongue

With the pungent aftertaste 

Of defeat and loss and deliberate departure

And if

With every word I say back to you

Snide remarks made of useless blades

Dulled by the numbing pain of goodbye

The hairs still stand on the back of your neck

Like the first time I ever told you I loved you

Or if we’ve gotten rid of it all

and bleached each other out

stains of Love on our white satin solitude

Immune to the harshness of our voices

Raw with anger and the unspoken truth

That this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

76 Framed

I look through the photographs of you and me

And my soul aches for that time

When I was yours and you were mine

But not for the reasons that you may think

I ache for a time where belief was alive

and Love rang through the air

a poignant blanket draped across the city

tucking our troubles away into a lullaby

warming our chilled hearts with the hum of forever

I ache for a time where all I could grieve

was the thought that we were not doing enough

with the magic that radiated in the spaces between our fingers

meandering through our bloodstreams

nestling its way gently between the tiny gaps of

I 

Love 

You

I ache for when I could see an entire lifetime in your eyes

and every crinkle and grayness was a sign

of strength and the pillars of our everlasting love

Stood tall with certainty and ambition

I ache for the nights where you would hold me

and the darkness would swallow us whole 

summersaulting with passion... and faith.. and trust

and the silences pulled us closer in a solemn hymn of eternity

I look through the photographs of you and me

and I fear that I will never be able to feel that deeply ever again

that I have grown numb to the mysteries of Love

and willingly turn a blind eye to all She has to offer

My soul aches for a time that is trapped in pictures

A time that cannot be replicated with lovers whose hearts are housed in the future

A depth that puts the endless secrets of the oceans to shame

A bountifulness that makes Eve wish she had not fall victim to that moment of fate

There have been fables

and there have been tales
told by our ancestors
and homeless men on the street

warning us not to fall

not to surrender

and feel it all

Because nothing will ever prepare you
for the self destruction

and the pity

and the pain that comes along

with knowing that something 

so overwhelmingly brilliant

can be yours

only to be felt once

and suddenly,
never at all.

Pulp Fiction

You say let's chalk it up

and blame it on the drunkenness,

but a part of me wants to believe

that this was meant to happen.

We were supposed to find ourselves

drunk on whiskey on a rainy

Wednesday summer afternoon,

our foreheads touching as we 

drunkenly giggle at the idea of us,

with our faces lit up by the faint glow

of Pulp Fiction on the TV screen,

and me begging you with my eyes

to kiss me.

And we never even got to finish

that damn movie

or find out what happens next;

I guess we were too busy

writing our own story

that we'll chalk up tomorrow

and blame on the drunkenness.