Maybe I don't like the silence
because it reminds me of an ex
who used to disappear for days at
a time, saying that the aliens had
abducted him.
Every time he'd reappear it was
with some new girl, hanging off his
dick - and I knew he'd slept with her
so that he'd have a place to sleep, and
food to eat.
I could never understand why
he wouldn't come to me to ask
for these things, knowing that
he'd never have to pay for them
with sex.
The last time he disappeared
for months, turning up on the
opposite coast so that he could
"make it," but came back home with
a pregnant fiancé.
Tag: Heartbreak
Busted | Poems that Suck
I weave these ribbons between the hollows of my bones, sewing together the frayed flesh that you stripped bare in my pursuit of you. Replace my heart with a Cuckoo clock, and my mind with a mocking bird, then maybe I'll sleep during these fitful nights of uncertainty.
Safe Harbor | Poems that Suck
You came to me,
pockets overflowing with
tamarind pods,
ripe figs,
celery root
and
prickly pears,
bravely holding me
for thirty seconds
"because that's how
long it takes for the
endorphins to be released."
No one's held me
that long before,
and I could've fell
to pieces in your arms
because you felt so safe.
Blue – Green Hair | Poems that Suck
It turns the bathwater chemical blue reminding me of the Mediterranean and better days. Of absorbing Vitamin D through my skin as a beautiful man begged to worship at the temple of my body. Where I felt alive being carried on the waves which rolled like a skilled lover's hips. This fiberglass tub is a cheap, lifeless imitation of that Middling Sea; The blue stain ringing the basin a reminder of that.
It Was a Fucking Love Tap! | Poems that Suck
The last straw was when I slapped his ass while he fucked me slow. "You sick fuck," he rumbled in my ear. We laughed in the thick darkness with nothing but each other to cling to.
On Flesh | Poems that Suck
I want to write a poem on your body, scrawl all the words of my love and passion upon your flesh; my mouth the pen. I promise to write slowly, ensure proper punctuation and grammar, and to end with a stroke that brings you bliss.
Let’s Smash | Poems that Suck
I don't want love, not really. Not the contented domesticity of a white wedding, a swollen pregnant belly, a house in the suburbs or a white picket fence. None of the considerations and compromises that leave you resentful, thinking about how you're losing out on your best fucking years as you brush your teeth while your partner takes a piss. No - what I want is, in comparison, hedonism. The blaze of passion, white hot and unquenchable. To worship your body with my mouth, my hands. I want to shiver under your touch, feel the desire of your gaze and die the little death beneath you. I want the romance of dancing in the kitchen, of falling asleep in your arms, to hold your deepest secrets in confidence, to know you better than anyone else. Then I want the drama. I want you to break my heart, to shatter it so that I can write shitty poems for a lifetime.
Drum| Poems that Suck
I feel hollow - skin tight like a drum - bouncing my fingers upon my chest to hear the echo of my heart.
What It Is | Poems that Suck
The darkness slipped inside me
at the end of a knotted winter scarf
slung over the dilapidated door of a
hotel room.
There swung the jerking feet of my
hopes for faith, love, brotherhood and
a well adjusted childhood.
It took me decades to understand
that you can't change the shifting
hands of Fate, much less the accidental
slip of the foot.
X Marks the Spot | Poems that Suck
The worst part
is
when I lie in bed
at night,
and I have to stop myself
from thinking about
a (our)
future.
I catch myself,
then
cross my wrists
over my chest,
like a corpse,
to
protect
my
heart.
