Purgatory

 I took a snapshot of him leaving

so I could prove that he’d been here. 

We were both substitutes 

for something else missing - 

An agreement 

between two lonely people

to close our eyes and pretend. 

The benefits of a broken friend. 

I blame it on you. 

You give an inch, I take it,

you jerk away as if I’ve 

demanded a mile, 

but I just wanted to see you smile. 

You’ve got me chasing ghosts,

Grasping at fleeing moments,

Trying to measure out the value in 

an empty promise. 

But then your eyes meet my eyes

from across a crowded room,

and dammit, I must admit,

I don’t know how to handle you. 

I’m not jealous of the others,

because I’m the one who gets the drunken calls

at 2:03am when you’re driving home 

And you sit in your car, 

and we talk about the world, 

and our love, and our future. 

And when we say goodnight, 

you’re left with warming reassurance, 

and I’m left with ambiguity

that was almost beautiful. 

So he stops by again,

and we fix each others broken pieces 

the best that we can, 

but we both know it’s without meaning. 

He loves her, and I love you 

but she’s cold and you’re too scared

so we all linger in purgatory, 

trapped in between what is felt,

and what is said. 

The benefits of a broken friend. 

— 

Postmortem

 Postmortem 

How extraordinarily human, 

you saw something pretty

and couldn’t resist the desire 

to chop it down.

Carry it home, 

Put it on display until 

death chilled its bones. 

Sweep up the evidence,

Erase your tracks.

Discard the remains. 

Your alibi is airtight.  

In time, they’ll hang up their pitchforks,

the crowd will disperse 

The chants for justice

fade to whispers from ghosts. 

“It’s such a shame,” 

they sigh, and shake their heads 

“If she’d only listened, 

she wouldn’t be dead.” 

              …- - -…

Scattered through the garden soil,

reduced to ash and dust,

clinging to the world I crave,

I dream I was enough. 

If only dreams were enough. 

——