Window seat

Sometimes, when I’m gazing out the window

Or just sitting by it

Reading about the particular sadness

Of lemon cake and smoking

I wonder if ill see him walking down the sidewalk

And what he’d do if he glanced in

Georgia, he might call, waving

As if we were still friends

But I know that I would shut the blinds

And put myself to bed

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Stress induced strept throat

“Don’t you wanna hear what happened?”

“No. It doesn’t matter. It only matters that you got sick. Are you on medicine?”

“Bubble gum flavored amoxicillan and liquid pain reliever self served with a throat syringe.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“It better be, its the only thing I can eat or drink.”

“I am kind of upset to hear about this new development, I have to admit.”

“Why, because you liked him?”

“Not at all. It’s because your voice got broken. That’s my very favorite thing.”

“One more day and I can talk again.”

“Ok. Make sure you talk to me.”

If it wasn’t so dangerous

the rain slashes the makeup
right off our faces
as we tend slowly
to the slippery terrain
i say the broken glass
around the fireplace
may look ugly now
but in the sun
it sparkles

ideas keep falling
out of my mouth
she says
did you know
there’s some sort of
electromagnetism
in the ground
and if it wasn’t so dangerous
wouldn’t we love to go barefoot
and all the scientific ways
we could benefit from it

but theres glass and needles
and lyme disease contending
with our ambitions
i tell her about the time
on this same path
i was assaulted
and she doesn’t say
that i deserved it
even though i was embarrassed
about what i was doing

she says
if it wasn’t so dangerous
we could do
so many more things
isnt it exciting
even just to think

Your Fetish

You followed me home from the bar
when I was crying
like the chill that lingers
after getting caught in the rain,
the spooky feeling
after a Halloween prank

my eyes disconnect from my brain
and go dead when
you’re too rough with me
it’s like pulling a string
and you think it looks
so pretty

and you keep asking
what happened
what happened
what made you like this
because it gives you such a hard on
to think that I’m hurt
and only you can fix it

I am not your sick,
broken doll
you get to bandage
and throw medication
down the throat of
while you forget your
own wounds festering
you don’t get to
see yourself
as my savior

you pulled my strings
on purpose,
you knew where they were
you’ve known so many girls
like this, you say its ok
tell me everything
I’m here

the only thing
you learned about me
is that I got sick
and you can trigger it

I am a waitress,
I just started,
and I am a poet
I am so much more
than your fetish
and you’ll never get
to know those things

I refuse to live
in your darkness
I like the light
that seeps in
more and more often
when you’re not
there to dim
and refuel it