September Sunset

I visited that old spot again.
Do you remember
where it was?
I took you there once;
a dusty white bench
overlooking a small pond.
We sat there
that brisk September evening
listening to the wind blow
as our eyes caught the last rays
of the golden purple sunset.
The quiet chattering
of the emerald mallards
in gentle tandem
of the splashes those red-eared sliders made
as they climbed out onto the cool bank.
I told you that I was not ready
for you
for us
and I knew then and there
that moment
was the beginning of the end
for us
for you
and for me.
I could almost hear
the smooth notes of your laugh
ring inside my mind
as you pretended you didn’t care.
But you did,
didn’t you?

Didn’t you?


Confession 18

“Women like her don’t end up with guys like me.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t really know. Just different paths, I suppose. I mean, come on. She’s gorgeous, talented, and passionate. All of the things that always attract guys like me. It’s a bit like watching a bonfire. You can’t help but be drawn to the light of it but you know you can’t get any closer without getting hurt. So you just sit back and be warmed by her presence. And somehow, as depressing as it sounds, that’s somehow always enough.”


Double Team

I don’t care
for fancy cars
or grandiose mansions.
Any fool can weave tapestries
of gold-soaked words
but I find
that perhaps the most attractive thing
in friendships
and relationships
is consistency.
Do what you say
you will do.
I am here
with no time to spare
for someone
who cannot decide
on how to use theirs.


Cue 9

There are parts of me
that beg to be written.
The pain I have endured
that at times,
is overwhelming.
But that is the curse
of writing,
for to put your pains into words
manifests them,
solidifies them.
Now you are no further
in your healing
than you were before yours pains
had no name.
I suppose there are some things
I would say
that should stay silent
for their own good.
Or at the very least
for my own good.