These are the kinds of lists I make now

Anger is
equal parts of love and hate
in a combination that doesn’t always equate
with the facts placed before us.
It makes no sense to coax
words from your mouth
if this is pointless to you now,
but still I’m trying.
I’m tired of justifying
silence that never belonged;
would it help if I said
we were both wrong?
I’ll tell you I forgive you
for ignoring my birthday
if you tell me you’ve finally learned
how to use actions to support what you say,
and I’ll promise I’ll try
to stop rewriting history
if you just admit you miss me.

-L.R.Y.
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Clean

I will write until
it all comes to the surface
and then,
finally,
I will wash you
off my skin
the way I should have done from the beginning.

I will write until
there are no more memories
to rehash
to re-imagine
to reconstruct
and then,
finally,
I will begin
creating new memories
without you.

I will write until
I feel I’ve said it all –
every last word you never heard,
and then,
finally,
the cycle will be a cycle no more.

-L.R.Y.

There are better ways to bind someone

There is
a dumbing down of love
when I think of you –
thoughts reduced to
base emotions,
memories that bind
me in place
even after you left me behind.
And it’s true,
though I know you would deny it:
you are the one who left
by choosing not to stay,
by choosing not to choose me.
It is your loss,
but somehow,
I am still the one who lost.
There is
a dumbing down of love
when I think of you,
and so
I simply try
not to think of you.

-L.R.Y.

Wish you were here

I remember the exact moment
I fell in love with you:
I was sitting across from you in a booth in a bar.
You were reminiscing about
memories of your dad and
why you can’t listen to Pink Floyd anymore.
I’ve never been able to pinpoint
a moment like that before,
to realize when I’ve crossed from
one side to the other,
and maybe it’s because
I never loved anyone the way I loved you.
Everything about us was muddy from the start,
tangled up beyond belief;
the only thing I never questioned was
the way we fit together.
I thought it was infinite,
that fragile but unquestionable state:
an equilibrium I had never felt
and didn’t know existed in real life.
Marriage was a myth until I met you,
but I would have hitched my star to yours
legally and eternally and every other way imaginable.
Believe me –
I appreciate the irony of that statement:
the man who made me believe in marriage,
already married to someone else.
It’s like that Alanis song I can’t listen to anymore
without thinking of you.
And I guess that brings us full circle,
doesn’t it?

-L.R.Y.
(4/17/18)