Your heart runs heavy on my mind

Like my smile ran gently across your cheek.

And I stare blankly into the darkness on the other side of the room

I wish you'd just call, now more than ever.

You're probably sleeping

But I wonder if you think of me before you fall asleep.

There's no rain to drown out my thoughts

So I'm left to grapple with the gravity of my situation.

Whatever that even means.

I write poems

Then save them to my drafts

Most of them are for you

One or two are about other things.

Some of them you've read

A lot of them you haven't

Most of them you never will

Unless I fix the things I hate.

They're too raw

Too emotionally charged

A window to my heart

A portal to my soul.

Maybe that's what makes good poetry

But they'd have to be good to be called good poetry

Right now they're just honest

I write honest poetry.

So until I learn to make honest poetry good

My drafts is where they'll stay

And maybe one day I'll just let you read all of them

But not yet.

You said you still loved me

You just don't feel the same anymore.

That sentence rings in my ears

Breaks my heart every time I hear it.

My world revolved around you for the last few years

I always did things that made sense for us.

I can't tell if this is what I want for me

Or if I'm just reacting to my new freedom.

You know I'll always be your cowboy

And I've always been your fool.

If you'd just call and ask me to

I'd drop everything and come to you.

I've learned a lot about myself the last few weeks

I don't need you to survive.

That's why I think it means even more

That I want you here with me.

And maybe one day I'll call

Or maybe one day you will.

We both know your laugh

Melts my heart like butter.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen

If I just showed up at your doorstep.

Would we hug? Would we talk?

Would you stare at me until I left?

I wonder where you are today

What you're doing.

I wonder if you thinks the same things about me

Or if you're just worried I'm drinking myself to death.

One day I'll come see you when I'm passing through town

Or I'll make a deliberate decision and play it off like a whim.

Maybe I'll call and we'll go on a date

And I'll know it's time to quit playing cowboy.

Love shouldn't hurt like this

And it'll stop hurting soon.

The ache will go away

But you will always have a place in my heart.

Somewhere to come back to

If you ever wanted to.

I won't replace you

Like I didn't replace the girls before you.

I'll add to everything I've stored up

Saving those moments for the hard days.

A little collector

Stashing away the memories that make him smile the most.

There are things I want to tell you,

That I think you looked beautiful yesterday

And I'm happy to see you smiling so genuinely.

Happiness looks good on you.

I can't tell you any of these things though

I promised to leave you alone.

I think you already know all of the things I want to say anyways.

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever see you again

Sometimes I wonder if you meant it

When you said you'd call me.

When I lie in bed I stare at the ceiling

I think about your face and the promises we made.

I wonder how love can leave so easily

And if it can ever come back.

I'm not sure what to do now

I think I might leave for a while.

The summertime is rodeo season

I'd like to go and do that.

I quit drinking, there's nothing to worry about

Though sometimes I'd like to start again.

I still have a beer or two every now and then

But it isn't bad, I learned my lesson.

You need closure from the things that hurt you in a past life

Something I can't provide.

I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for

I hope you find the happiness you so desperately crave.

I still don't hate you

And you're always on my mind.

If you need me you'll always be able to get ahold of me

And I'll always answer your calls.

I never did learn to say goodbye

If I had maybe this wouldn't be so hard.

But the best I can do is we'll talk later

I'd like to see you again when you're ready.

And when you think of me,

I hope our memories make you smile.

Although it pains me for now,

Our love is worth it all the while.

As the sun rises,

And flowers grow.

We are not done yet,

I surely know.

I told you I couldn't do this again.

But truth be told,

I'd do anything you asked me to.

If you asked me to wait a while for you to get things figured out.

I wouldn't think twice,

about waiting for the rest of my life.

No music today.

Instead, the incessant “rattle”

of sunglasses against my

Ilia lipstick, shade “At Last”.

As the plugged white cord

“scrapes” the edge of the dash

quietly, yet annoyingly~“rubbing“ and hanging to the floor.

Suddenly, a constant “click, clack”

the green arrow, turning left.

Then, one big “swish, swoosh”

the rain, “swiped” clean;

collecting on the windshield

right after a “spritz”~ sun shower. Light droplets heard as only

just a “pitter”. Pitter turns ”patter”

within the next “tick” of the clock. “Tick, tick”.… another

“swish, swoosh“ is coming near.

It’s raining harder now.

One Egyptian bead “swaying”, slightly “tapping” the

carved wood symbol of Peace;

hanging, “gliding”

to and from the mirror.

Another “click, click, click”, (turning right this time).

“Swish, swoosh“ away more water.

All the droplets pooling

but the blinker keeps “clicking“ long after the turn. “Clunk”.

“Snap” back the handle in place-

a vehicle recall never fixed

(to lazy to call).

“Ahhh” …. a long “yawn”,

for a long day .… “sniff“

(low immune system).

“Swish, swoosh”, my hand leaves the steering wheel once again

to click down the handle.

The rain continues to fall.

Then, my daily reminder,

steady “beeping”,

steady “beeping”

accompanied by

the flashing red image.

”Seatbelt, beep, seatbelt, beep“. “Swiisshh”. Wet pavement tracks, seen in shiny grey reflections.

Swerve, “kerplunk“, the

“da~dum, rattle, da~dum” bumps, uneven car tilts “groans” and “whirls” in the road~

smooth pavement again.

“Whirling“ tires, slowing pads, “whining“ breaks to stop at red.

“Click, click”, blinker turns left

(past the batting cages this time).

“Crack”- fly ball.

“Giggles” and youthful “flirts“ heard through the half open window. “Weeeen wwoooon“ ….

the electric window goes up,

no more rain on the inside handle. No more giggles.

Pay attention to the busy road.

Last turn. No blinker.

Slowing to stop,

car “rattles”~ sunglasses too,

while the wipers keep

“swish, swooshing“ until, “badadadadum” … big “click“

and a sudden jerk into park.

Then the “click” of the keys

turns it all into “silence”.

I donate clothes to thrift stores & pass pieces of me

on to someone else. Am I making less of myself?

I don’t know, but I wear two shades of bright dresses

in case someone compliments the top layer,

& I can gift it to them right off my chest.

If my bedroom’s a mess it’s because my heart’s

stamped on too many of my things, & I can’t decide

who should own the quilted throws of me. PSAs always say

that giving away prized possessions is a sign

for suicide but every time I’ve passed down my best

belongings, they’ve been material stand-ins for my soft

chirrups of misremember me if you want, but you could use this.

When I want to die, the wren in me searches for high places

& considers eating soap. I’ve lifted my bones to ledges

of buildings & turned back around. I’ve called my mother

& told her of the water, how all along my life

there’s been a river & a dive I’ve never followed down

& we’ve both agreed, alright, then. We’ll look somewhere else.