This was a piece I did for a poetry slam years ago. Unlike most slams, we were given a topic and a time limit to create a piece. I prefer these types of slams because it helps me to focus my writing.
And in the comforting embrace,
I fall into open irises that always invite me only so far.
In that moment,
a sea of I-Told-You-So’s is washed away
by salty streams
and what your eyes tell me.
To the tune of a record I’ve heard
since before you noticed I had ears.
I watch the needle that never quite fit your groove
play itself across the scratched
surface of your soul
yet never quite as broken as your heart.
The mellow rhythm of your longing
nearly puts me to sleep.
I dream the dream you yearn for,
and wake up as empty as my bed…
all because he gives you hope
and a 3 syllable lie.
I feel your breath,
warm, hurried and sweet
with each “why” that it carries…
and I feel as guilty as if I had stolen it from your lips
with my own… without pretense.
My heart hammers against my chest,
breaking friendship in case of emergency.
I soak in the water of life on your lips,
if it would put out the fire in my soul.
Fire that has burned for you since I learned
could never cultivate a blaze;
merely put his foot down
and stomp out any signs of passion approaching.
Even your feet
bear the mark of weariness.
Tired of learning the steps
to a dance that he could never appreciate,
leaving you tripping in your lonely folly.
What I wouldn’t give to caress those feet…
Every ounce of my being
dedicated to you in the open…
Teaching you the two step of my heart
But we can’t tango without stepping on his toes.
So I sit in silence,
waiting for the gentle tinkle
of a heart
shattered for the last time.
When I can finally say something…