I think I will always have you
clutching at my brain.
Once upon a time,
I dreamed you up
and you ran off with what was mine.
It’s amazing
how many excuses a person can make
for another’s behavior –
as for me,
no matter what pep talks I can give myself
you manage to grip your place
between index and middle, even
like an unfiltered cigarette.

There’s a room in my mind
where you’re holding me –
we’re dancing in your kitchen.
I followed a trail of roses to your bedside
(forgive me for not tearing up)
and perhaps that should have clued me in.

There’s a room in my mind
where our hands are linked across the table
as we make peace with ourselves.
I waged war for so long, friend.

I’m pounding
tearing down the door,
racing inside
shrieking,
two sets of bleary eyes greeting me.
No God ever heard me
as I paced the streets,
but they did –
the unlucky bystanders.

There’s a room in my mind
where I am kneeling
(for some reason)
pleading for you not to take it all away.

We’re dancing now.

I sat across from you,
tacitly acknowledging
this hand life had dealt me.

There’s a room in my mind
where I’m fidgeting with my tie
making silent oaths to myself
to quietly disregard you.
Oaths that dissipated as quickly
as each drag from my cigarette that afternoon.

You considered me silently,
hating me.

I held my arms wide and cherished your lingering scent
for what I imagined to be the final time –
the very thing I grew to hate.

There’s a room in my mind
where you’re leaning forward,
no hesitation,
on the precipice.

There’s a line down my life.

Once upon a time I dreamed
of what could (should never) be.
No God ever heard me,
and no God will ever hear you.

There’s a room in my mind
with white walls
and a box full to bursting –
that’s all you’ll ever be
as long as I’m alive.
In the meantime,
pleasant dreams to you.

I snatched my good wishes from the bookshelves,
and so I snatch my good wishes from your heart –
pleasant dreams to you.

May flights of angels sing you to your rest.

Filed by Trevor at 2:17 am under Fightin' Words