more.bad.poetry

where awkward private thoughts become public knowledge.


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Greed

I worshiped gold.
My eyes followed the light wherever it went –
Oh, I was mesmerized by the glint of something so precious.
Something that seemed tangible and attainable,
A gleam that made me warm when it shined across my face.
Like sunshine, but richer.
But reaching out to hold a little magic in my hand
Light fell through my fingers like sand,
landed at my feet, dry and dull.
In wanting to hold it I smothered it
And the world seems less like colors and more like blues and greys.

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Little Lights

How likely was it, how would I have guessed
Any of the things that happened after you kissed me;
that one time in the middle of the street in the middle of the night.
It was like in that moment some invisible cord tied us together.
And I knew your thoughts, and you knew mine,
and we talked about serious things over milkshakes,
And slept contented in our comfort of one another.

Hardly seems fair, does it?
To go from that to this, to month-long silences and second guessing.
To fall asleep with a burning chest, snuggled in misery like a blanket.
When we don’t know, or won’t admit, whether the cord was frayed or cut;
Not that it would matter now.

Strange to hear the echoes of my mental cries in the silence
And to feel a whole new range of emotion more powerfully
Than the way your fingers ran through my hair, or down my cheek.
Those things were tangible and they’re gone and in a way,
I’m gone.

Insomnia, staring out the window at the darkest part of night,
Stars sparkling like tiny glowing lanterns,
Night lights for the broken-hearted


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It’s Sugar.

Uneven pavement, cracks and all;
the sidewalk is no safer than the street.
It’s a shoulder-push into the road
and then an immediate grab for the hand.
Repeat, repeat, repeat.
A promise not to ever leave you alone,
to keep each other safe,
even when sighs and tears punctuate fighting words.
And then it’s you telling me to do just that –
in no uncertain words, to leave you alone.
I want to tell you what it feels like to be separated from
the light you leave in the air where you’ve been.
I want to tell you that I can still feel your breath on my neck.
As you are walking off alone,
I want to tell you that the tufts of grass coming up through
the sidewalk cracks are kind of beautiful, and resilient,
and I’m planting myself with them until I hear you calling me home.