Lemon pie blues

Today hurt bad like cuts on my fingers
then slicing lemons for hours
your face, always disappointed, and
I would like to be the girl
to bring light to your eyes

How do I explain why it hurts more
to be misunderstood than kicked
honey, how I wish I could have you here
to protect me now
because I am feeling low

Feeling tired and wondering why
I never fit into this world of woe
come Sunday, everything
is going to feel alright
praise God on Sunday we will dance

and give happiness one more chance
come Sunday
everything is gonna feel alright

He closed like a door
not slammed
the way we hear a warning shot
before the storm
but shut meticulously
carefully
to evoke no more than a soft click
easily missed

It was always the silence that did me in.
I put up with every violation
in a way that no one should
but I never stopped living
until the silence got me

Look at me

because you don’t see me
anymore

now with my bonnet off
I’ll dance in the rain
or play on the train tracks

foolhardy soul
what losses now

because you don’t see me

the fear is waning
and all bets are off
when it comes down

to
assumptions
conclusions
predictions

and my brave face

because you no longer
see me

each rose
smells that much sweeter
being discovered
and
I take the steps
two at a time
a miracle on this day

as I am still here

when you look through me

I don’t get sad when the fog rolls in
the blanket enveloping me
reminding me of what is real

not your fantasy
with pinpricks and Tabasco sauce
and each day
less and less
I remember what we said

You stopped taking me into account

and I took another look
at my books, but
doing your own accounting
is foolhardy

and takes a cast iron heart

Now that you can’t see me

what was bright like neon
is dull under your spell

your moods like
the ocean

my invisible coat
you bid me wear

big moon
jagged stars
playing riffs in the blackest night

serenading–do you know
what felt like a golden moment
someone wants from me

for a lifetime

your heart

moving
pulsing
still tomorrow
your words something I have grown
too clingy to
hush
don’t criticize

I will be finished soon

Invisible now
the day scares me–
I want to run from it

hush

the night is nearly come
and today relegated to
the history of days

sun beating down
flowers bloom
near summer ache
blue sky bloodied
it is dark here
still
so I wait
(not so)
patiently
for the light
of your
smile words company

No man’s land

I set up camp there
when my world is too much
and yours is unreachable
I build my safety net there
even though you never
asked me to

(your claim is full disclosure)

What do I need?
I don’t remember, as I have
learned to do without
this ground
with its rotting and wounded
feels oddly safe

Affection would be nice
after all this time
but I can get myself off
like any other day
and I hear you say ‘no’
not that kind of touch

The touch of lips on a heart
injured and bleeding

(no man left behind?)

will you let it go

sometimes I write about myself
in third person
so you will never guess
that it is me
that I went through the fire
and came out charred and worn

it is best that you do not know
how often you come to mind
how well I know you
and talk about you to others
it is best you think
about someone else

don’t take this away from me
this safety of darkness
don’t lose the sense of wonder
they beat out of you, in the days
when you were just at the surface
gasping for air–

The hair on your chest

No one told you
when you were half naked
pressed up against the wall
touched until you were brand new

No one told you
when you were drowning in love
and falling through promises
cherished beyond breath

They never told you
that day when eternity was vowed
and she touched your chest softly
and felt your head explode when you came

That some day
she wouldn’t want to touch your hair
anymore. That someday he would not want
to hear your voice except to answer him

Does she know you have
gray hair on your chest
Did he look into your eyes and see
that you are still twenty-five inside

They never tell the truth
about what happens after.
Don’t be bitter-don’t be cold
but they really should have told us

69.

I see the end coming
far off
(but sure)
I feel the pull of the earth
weakening
when it used to hold me tight

my eyes blur
you are hazy there where you sit
nearly with me
but somewhere else
at the same time
the fog rising between us

I see the end coming
far off
(but sure)
the aches are greater
when it rains
your anger is greater
when I cry

and I wonder why
I have failed
to dredge up empathy
among the roses
this dry spell of months
is heavy to drag behind