you’ve been coming home

mint chapstick and
tobacco pieces stuck to your lips from
those poorly rolled cigarettes.
extra bus fare.
bottom shelf whiskey and
natural laughter
spilling from your breath.
I keep finding

little post-it notes
shoved into your pockets
pasted with someone else’s playlists;
some other guy’s suggestions
on how to lift your spirits
when the depression gnaws your
spindles
like a cancer and
you’re too tired to
undress yourself.
I’m still here

following you under the covers
taking keys from your hand,
leaving fresh water on the
nightstand.
gnawing your earlobes
with some panic
whispering at your hair
with some manic
pinning you down with some
well timed stanzas.

“the boyfriend”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: