A Haiku About Mothers (I Met Him Once)

Don’t mention boys ever.

She said I need to date him.

"He sounds expensive."

Scars - 22 May 2013

The bad memories are like scars,

Closed up and healed

Yet slightly off-color.

As if I needed a physical reminder

That I’m no longer who I used to be;

I used to be so mad about you.

Now I'm just mad.

You'd Be Scabies - 22 May 2013

Loving you is a phantom itch

And no matter how hard I scratch,

You got under my skin.

If you were a disease, you’d be scabies.

Thanks to you

I've torn myself into pieces so small,

Clawing away at my skin

Anything to soothe the crawling underneath.

I've lost some things along the way

Like my smile

And my laugh

And my innocence

Replaced instead by

The gnawing, the biting, the corroding feeling

That could only be the after-taste of you.

And unlike you, scabies goes away in 2 to 3 weeks.

Sugar-Coated Love - 8 May 2013

She loves you like syrup;

Sticky, sweet and a bit clingy.

You find traces of her on your hands

And at the corners of your mouth

And you never expect her to stay.

But she does.

You love her like slow summer mornings;

Breakfast in bed and pancakes before noon.

She finds traces of you in the lumpy batter

And in the pools of syrup you can’t stand.

And you never expected to love her.

But you do.

Twenty-One - 19 May 2011

RUMOR HAS IT

That I'm sick of love

Don't want another LOVESONG

Sung in the heat of the moment

Only to have it simmer and cool

I'd rather SET FIRE TO THE RAIN

Than take my chances with you

Saving my bets for another day.

I'm TURNING TABLES on you now

DON'T YOU REMEMBER?

When I said that I'LL BE WAITING

I didn't mean for a prince

So sick of Don Juans

Because once he has me,

He'll try to TAKE IT ALL

And HE WON'T GO

Won't leave me alone

Until he finds himself

ROLLING IN THE DEEP

Deep within my sheets

So step off.

Cause my ONE AND ONLY

Isn't you or

SOMEONE LIKE YOU.

Gravity - 7 May 2013

He was like gravity,

Pulling me in and holding me close

Always making me come back for more

But in the end I’m just another one

Dragged into his pull

And un-tethered and unsure when he leaves

He was beautiful, manic

And never truly mine

He's Peppermint Tea You Steeped for Too Long and Rips in Your Favorite Jeans

He’s peppermint tea you steeped for too long and rips in your favorite jeans. He’s the butterscotch candy that just appears in the purses of little old ladies. He’s drive-thru diners and licking greasy fingers. He’s a melody stuck in your head but you never know the words. He’s the word on the tip of your tongue and the things you say without thinking. He’s anxiety and caution and angst. He’s the slightly pulpy last sip of lemonade when it’s a scorching hundred degrees. He’s the pennies in your pockets in exchange for a thought and the sprint to beat the parking meter. He’s cold coffee and sleepy conversations and the umbrella that breaks in the rain. He’s puddles and wet socks and the thump of your tennis shoes in the dryer. He’s leftover Easter candy, chalky and stale, and the stomachache you can’t seem to regret.  

He’s too much and never enough.

He’s killing you softly and you don’t even care.