Her. 

Words stumble

Drunk,

Out of my mouth. 

There is no one 

There to catch them 

My breathe is swallowed 

By yours 

And all I want is 

The very thing

I cannot have:

You. 

I linger here 

And on your lips. 

And I don’t want you 

To leave. 

But according to you 

You were never here

In the first place. 

These feelings are fucking with me. 

You’re fucking with me. 

I’m fucking myself 

Over. 

I wander into those eyes 

And get lost 

And confused

I’m so lost and confused 

By you 

I’m so used to matching 

People to words and stereotypes

Like its some kind of 

Children’s game. 

But you just don’t fit

Quite like the other pieces. 

And I can’t tell 

If it’s because you’re broken 

Or because 

You’re from a different puzzle. 

A glimpse of you

Sends my heart racing 

Like a gazelle

Knowing it’s being hunted 

By something bigger than itself 

Not that you’re much bigger than me 

But you are. 

I can’t quite put my finger 

On what it is about you. 

It’s driving me crazy. 

You’re driving me crazy. 

But as long as you ride shotgun 

I’m okay with that. 

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2 thoughts on “Her. 

  1. I would be remiss if I did not say that this is something that I knew I would immediately identify with. I love how your poetry, your writing, is a flow of thought. It turns your internal dialogue into something beautiful when we always think of it as choppy and messy. This is great. My favorite lines are:

    “But you just don’t fit
    Quite like the other pieces.
    And I can’t tell
    If it’s because you’re broken
    Or because
    You’re from a different puzzle.”

    The analogy here, although written about before, has been originally and beautifully stated. Fantastic piece!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That part of the poem jumped out at me too, along with the next one:

      “A glimpse of you

      Sends my heart racing

      Like a gazelle

      Knowing it’s being hunted”

      The imagery inspired by those well-chosen words is amazing.

      Liked by 1 person

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