the toy

I’m just a toy
you took out
because you were bored
and dissatisfied with your life,
and now your present
has come back to haunt you
the way we both
knew that it would.

so now you
must put me back
in the box. I’m no
Velveteen Rabbit;
my fur is barely even worn.
my eyes are still black
and shiny buttons,
my whiskers are
intact.

and here is the sad part:
you say you didn’t mean to do
exactly what you
actually did.
you say you’re not
the kind of person
who does things
like this. but
I’m here to tell you
that it doesn’t matter
what you meant. there’s a
reason for the expression
about actions and how
they speak louder
than words.

but don’t worry. toys
don’t have feelings.

almanac

I started to make a list
of all the poems I’ve written
about you, but I quickly
lost count. they seem
as innumerable
as the stars in the sky,
multitudinous
as the diamond grains
of sand on a beach, countless
as the beats of my heart,
the tears from my eyes, and
the sighs of my breath.

sad ones, mad ones, ecstatic, longing,
resigned – I have as many
moods as the moon;
my feelings wax and wane
with the tides and are
twice as salty. these poems
are my farmer’s almanac,
my weather report. today
it’s balmy with a slight chance
of melancholy. a good day to
mulch sorrow, and weed out
old resentments. if you have
a kindness of rose bushes, plant them
at midnight, under the light
of the crescent moon.

the race

you tried, or so
it seems. I arrived
late, as usual, so
I can only assume
you did your best.
he may have won
the trophy, but
he didn’t win
the race. time
will tell
who really comes
in first. I’ll be
the judge of that.

trash

you know what they say
about one man’s trash.
the same could be said
about the man himself.
one girl’s scumbag
is another’s knight
in tarnished armor.
if I take off
these rosy glasses,
what will you
look like?

mother II

I understand now
why you always talk to me
about having your children
and then – practically in the
same breath – deny having
any romantic interest in me
whatsoever. you want me
to mother your children
better than your own mother
did with you. you think
that only this can repair
the yawning abyss
she left in your heart
with her toxic
mothering. and if you
were to express any
romantic feelings towards me
it would be too close
to incest because
you conflate me
with her.

Continue reading mother II

how to drive a girl “crazy”

1) if you like her, never admit it.
2) if she makes a move, reject her.
3) hang out as much as possible.
4) be very nice but maintain
plausible deniability.
5) if she objects to any of this,
tell her she’s the crazy one.
6) act happy for her when she
meets someone who’s not afraid
to tell her how he feels.
7) die alone.