Once while playing tourists
in my hometown,
we set sail just over the bay,

below an otherworldly orange
spanning water too rarely
not between us that day.

Spinning to Pitbull like it was
the Roaring 20s, laughing til
under your last breath,

you whispered slowly that you
liked my
little black dress.

Yet reflecting in your icy blues
were my legs, long and
unsteady on the sea,

so I used mine to say softly back, until unseen, our show would be better reviewed rated PG.

But, you’d
whisk
us to the
theatre just
so I could
justify another
gown I
didn’t need

and you’d see
every stray
glance as
cast my
way and
wouldn’t
believe,

that I was only the star
in your own eyes and that
was the only role I wanted

until you closed the curtain
on the play that
you and I had lovingly scripted.

Over, I re-watched our scenes in
my mind to find why
my light for you went dark,

but for once feel I actually
performed pretty well, more
than on par, for my part.

So I gathered all our
fallen roses and carried them
off with unmasked pride,

and thorny memories of the
wine red they were before
our applause died.

But, we found magic
rolling by fields of green,
never crossing the same tracks,

along worn fences made of stone
with moss-woven cover for
their cracks.

Making friends with every
sheep and the ravens
who flocked to us in threes,

flown down from
knotted wayward branches
that grew from ancient seeds,

then lifted to ride the
feral winds whipping our hair
against foggy skies.

And we felt like we were
soaring too seeing our world
through prophetic eyes.

But I closed mine to the
brewing storm I foresaw to be ever
tomorrow’s grey,

yet your rain did come
when our tomorrows did hold
forever a day away.

But, you would let me drive
the stick shift so you
could clutch my knee,

and Taylor Swift was always
playing and you pretended
it was just for me.

I told you you were
my golden lover and I’d
go forevermore where you led,

but you sulked like a child
and said you wanted to be
my burning red.

So be careful what you
wish for because you got it
once we fell,

as now I scream sing lyrics
I now feel
all too well_((10mv)(tv)).

But I’ve studied the
back of my hand since
you said goodbye,

and I still can’t
wrap my mind around
the reason why.

But, you hunted in haunted places
with me irrefutable proof
that I was right,

then you didn’t believe me
when I finally saw a
spectre that unexpected night.

I’d argue that you should change
your mind even if only on
my good word,

knowing I’d trust any thing you
told me no matter
how logically absurd.

But maybe
you will
admit
they exist
now I
haunt
every
blink of your eyes,

and the
irony is,
more than
the apparition
of us gone on
the
blink of your lies.

For I saw an invisible hand turn
the iron-wrought key
of an oaken door,

and then you show we were
never real with
craven strokes of a plastic keyboard.

But, in our days of bliss
we’d bask in the promise of
our endless days ahead,

until your happiness would scare
you into mishearing things
I never said.

And I had to so often affirm
my heart was rooted by
crawling through labyrinths of dirt,

because no air was too thin
for you to pull doubt from,
or a reason to be hurt.

But my blood still dripping from
your knife,
your finger would point at me,

and you would expect for
me to say sorry for
making you cut me so deep.

A word I learned you’d
dig our grave
before you’d hear you say,

under the ground I stood firm
on, without even a token
eulogy spoken in our wake.

But, anywhere we were away
together felt like
we were right at home,

til at last at yours,
my charms tried your patience
and I tried not to feel alone.

I used to marvel at how safely
I could be with you
all facets of myself,

but I found myself,
for the first time,
walking on eggs’ delicate shells.

And I found myself,
for the first time,
doubting I’d be your eternal exception

and not wear out my welcome
with my mortal imperfection,

when for the first time,
I only heard words of love
when we were close in bed,

and the warmth faded
from your voice as you told me
it was all in my head.

But, you once
felt lucky
beyond
reason
that I
somehow
chose to
be with you;

except your
pride
was parched
with fear
that I would
come to
feel this too,

and became a thirst for
conviction that proved
an unslakable need,

so with the clarity of
your self-fulfilling hindsight,
I am afraid I must concede.

For the sake of your next,
I hope you don’t
bathe her in such rose-colored light

and know she’s more
than you deserve
in the darkest corners of your night.

And I hope she won’t
know the times
you’ll pretend her arms are mine,

and you’ll know
they could have been from
our beginning to the end of time.

But, while I will be slower
to mourn and you’ll move on
with insulting speed,

at least I won’t be lying
when I say I have truly
and found a better version of me.

And have learned from
the cruel lessons
I never asked to be taught

of the history we turned in
crumpled torn pages of the
storybook future we bought.

And
I know
my petty
poetry
will paint us
both
in a
bad light-

you
for how
you were,
and me
for what
I felt the need
to badly write.

But I will never share
the lines with you that
you have well deserved,

even if you are
the only reader who could ever get
every cryptic word.