It is strangely familiar,
this act of unburdening my soul to you,
a sense of déjà vu
for me and
me alone.
To you,
it is new and unsettling,
but you will learn it well
if you choose to buckle up.
-L.R.Y.
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There’s no such thing as closure
I hate to admit it,
but there’s no way around it –
you broke me,
and there was nothing clean about it.
I think you might be proud
of the shape you’ve left me in,
because it means you were right
about the mess we would be in.
You’ve called all the shots
from the first moment that you kissed me;
now there’s nothing left but carnage,
and I’m the only one who’s missed me.
I hate to admit it,
but there’s no way around it –
you broke me,
and there was nothing clean about it.
But you forget I’ve been here before,
left for dead and damn the price;
my whole life’s led up to this,
and if I made it once,
I suppose I’ll make it twice.
-L.R.Y.
(9/13/18)
Lost cause
It was you who taught me
what it feels like
to be the one who loves more,
to tip the scales in a way
my heart never had before.
It was you who taught me
what it feels like
to lose control of passing time,
to get caught up in moments
that were never really mine.
It was you who taught me
what it feels like
to realize nothing’s as it seemed;
we are, in fact, a lost cause,
despite all I had believed.
It was you who taught me
all of this and then some,
and just the same,
you are the one
who grabs it back without a word –
every single thing I ever said, and
every single thing you never heard.
-L.R.Y.
Alcoholic confessions
He knew me
when I drank vodka and rum,
and none of it was a game
but we had a little fun
once in a while.
You knew me
when I drank cider and wine,
and none of it was a guarantee
but there was a time
when you knew the real me
because in you,
I found myself.
-L.R.Y.
(9/2/18)
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 will just admit you miss me.
-L.R.Y.
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.
