Saturday, January 26, 2013



You are a park bench at the bottom of the ocean,
because every time I laid with you, I couldn't breathe.
I remember the first time I saw you,
you knocked the rhythm of my breath right out of my lungs.
You knocked my soul off balance,
and my heart out of key.

And snuck your way into my veins without even knowing it.

I remember the first time I saw you,
you were wearing a bright red pea coat,
and your lips caught me on fire.
You made me wish there was another phrase for
love at first sight.

Because it was more of a train wreck
making the sound of a moth fluttering around a light bulb.
Or a shipwreck disguised as a birthday party
It was more of me, loving your hands
but wishing there wasn't a wedding ring on it.

Leaving you was like trying to put my heart in a cabinent
and always keeping the key in my pocket.


I feel the key every time I breathe.
Every time I sit down.
During every commercial
every time I see a pair of eyes that aren't yours
Every time I see.

And I miss you.
I miss the way you drug the laughter out of my bones,
the way you made my insides feel like feathers,
the way you took my arm into yours when we walked down the street.

But I can't love you like that.
My heart can't stumble at the thought of you.
I can't think of your body during church.
I can't have you.

And as death gives to mourning,
and has your colors begin to fade,
I have to say goodbye.
When what I really want to say is