MIDNIGHT

I hope you remember me
in the midnights of yourself,
in the ten half moons that
cupped my face and confessed
your love for me on the
last Sunday of April.

How unpleasant it has been,
to only be seen by you when
the Sun has set and Nyx has
stained your vision with her poison.

Even at our best, it was always
with the help of another woman
that you saw my worth,
however temporarily.

I am beautiful too,
you know,
in the vulnerable streams of
daylight, the muted mixture of
sunshine particles and
exhaled pixie dust.

I am magic—
a witch, a deity, and a minx,
yanking oceans with the
center of my own gravity,
undoing the shackles you have
clasped around my ankles
just because I can. 

i wonder

i wonder, how often do you think of me?

is it every time you breathe and my mouth is not there to inhale a small sliver of your soul?

or is it every time you look up and your gaze is not met with my eyelashes brushing gently against your cheek?

or maybe it is every time your lips curl up into a smile and there is no one there to laugh at your crooked teeth.

or perhaps it is every time you furrow your brow in frustration and i am not there to smoothen your forehead with a kiss.

i wonder, do you even notice that i am no longer there?

or if when you breathe now, your lungs flutter with sighs of relief.

or if when you look up, all you see is clarity where mist once clouded your judgment -- your every thought.

or if when every time you smile, it is of release and of the realization that this is what you've always wanted -- to be alone.

or if when you furrow your brow, it is in genuine confusion as to why it took you so long to get here.

i wonder, how often do you regret the life i so terribly miss?

97 In Between

We parted ways at the center clock

With small embraces

And mumbled exchanges

Sauntering to our numbered platforms

Looking back for a moment

Reluctant yet relieved.

As I stepped onto my train

Whisked away back again

To a sleepy one horse town

I began to wonder

About all the things I didn't say:

Was he closer to his father

Or his mother?

Was he scared of being swallowed whole

In a school of 30,000

Or would he navigate gracefully

Through the crowds of people

Trying their best to make sense of it all

Just like him?
Even though he swears he’s not a messy eater

How many times a day

Does he stain his baby blue button down

With mint chocolate chip ice cream?

Does he watch them splash around

Darting his eyes from left to right

For the money

Or something

Deeper

And bigger

Than all of us?

Why finance?

Does it make his heart sing,

And would he ever consider Wall Street?

What goes on

In that beautiful mind 

As he sits quietly in a corner

With an empty beer can in hand

Waiting for someone to notice him?

Did he know he was the first time

I looked at novelty with eagerness;

Something other than spite?

And lastly,

Did he know

On the subway ride home

Back to 42^nd

Where I discovered

That the crook of his arm

Was a place I fit perfectly

That this was the last time?
Did he know it was the end

To something that had not yet begun

Or does he too,

Wonder

About all the things he didn't say?

2:30 AM Thoughts

Someday, when all your dreams have come true and you've gotten everything you've ever wanted out of this life, I hope you remember that there was one you left behind, deliberately abandoned in the back alleyways of your mind, like an unfinished sentence or a half-eaten slice of bread. I hope you dig deep within the sandpits of your soul and uncover the entire existence we made together, like opening up a box of distance memories filled with half-ripped, faded photographs. I hope you remember everything we thought we'd be and the life we so naively built together when we were eighteen and didn't know any better. I hope your eyes fill with the same tears I cried every night for months on end, and your lungs cave in from the weight of the regret you've been trying so hard not to feel every day since that crisp November morning when you so wrongly decided which dreams were worth turning into reality.

The Next Time Around

Maybe it’ll be better the next time around.

Because we’ll have grown into the people were were destined to be—- it’ll be so deeply rooted in our souls that even the strongest wind won’t be able to shake it.

And we’ll have grown into our skin and known what it’s like to fit into it perfectly, all on our own, without having to feel like we’re missing a limb whenever we’re apart.

And we’ll have known what it’s like to breathe without our lungs intertwined in our chests and our legs in the sheets and for the first time we will breathe fresh air that is not polluted by toxic love.

And we’ll have seen ourselves in the mirror for who we really are, and stared at reflections that are only ours, not yours and mine or mine and yours.

We’ll be whole, and we’ll be ready, and we’ll be better.

Because we must find peace as two before we can find peace as one.

At least that’s what I’d like to believe about the next time around. 

Everything He

I.

He was strong in the way that he carried me into his bedroom every night, like a bride and groom on their honeymoon

But he was weak in the way that he didn't know the weight of the words he had spoken much too soon

II.

He kissed me with the taste of forever on his lips and  "I love you" on the tip of his tongue

But he touched me in a way that he wouldn't ask me to stay if I ever decided to run

III.

I wanted so bad to live life knowing that I'd never have to live it without him again

But he wanted so bad to live life on his own, and that was our tragic “The End.”

FOR THREE WEEKS I BORROWED YOUR BOYFRIEND

1.
I took a quick glance at his phone screen
And there, in the tiny glowing square,
Were the words he was writing to you
But saying to me.

2.
We walked down Astor Place
And he mentioned you,
A quick slip of the tongue,
Slippery like the phrases I never let roll off mine.

3.
The subway swayed and he laid a hand on the small of my back
Steadying me, holding me in place.
But all I could see when I closed my eyes
Were him and you, swaying on the dance floor.

Down in Downtown SoHo

Grand Central Terminal, 10:51 PM

A budding potential 

His green eyes resembled

As we exchanged apprehensive glances across the room.

A handsome young stranger

Smile speckled with just the right danger

Could he cure my never ending gloom?

Who is he?

Could he love me?

All questions asked much too soon.

Two lost souls

Daring to be bold

Silently juggle the odds of doom.

There was something in our silence

Be it reckless, or maybe violent

With power that beamed like the moon.

Because as our eyes locked

I admit my heart stopped

In that over-crowded and dimly lit room.

One Last Goodbye

A fleeting wave

To end the day

We can't escape

The mess we've made.

I want to try

Ask myself why

It's all a lie

We cannot hide.

I miss you now

But don't know how

A broken vow

Take one last bow.

Better to leave

Torn at the seams

A movie scene

Not made for keeps.

There's no more sorrow

Tears will not follow

A friendship borrowed

Until tomorrow.

It's time that we

Accept defeat

One day we'll meet

Again repeat.