Monday, February 28, 2011

Recycling: The Ex Who Tries To Pretend "YOU" Never Were.

They always call to reminisce
Ponder on the good ol’ days
Three hours and twenty two minutes
Of “us”

I sit between the cadences of your speech

I want to be in love again
And it has taken me four years of college
1,460 empty nights
to admit that,
so don’t judge me.

Vulnerability is a son of a b*tch
She, who taught him how to compress,
Independence into gentle submission.

I refuse to show you how broken I am.

Flipping through your manuscript:
Philosophy of ex-lovers and could-have-beens.
Is like sitting on a porous cloud nine,
Waiting to fall through.

We sit at café tables
Tracing talking lips
With wanting eyes
Only to be denied proper goodbyes
For fear your “real” future
Might be lingering nearby

Witness, a 23 year old
Committing emotional suicide
On the promises of a liar

Blade and wrists are for cowards.

Try shredding your heart;
Taping it back together
And calling it friendship.