Friday, September 07, 2012

Poem I found cleaning out my notes on my Ipad written 347 days ago

if you were everything I needed
I wouldn’t be writing this now
I couldn’t be writing this now
I was trying to have a goddamn conversation
with you but it was about art and you don’t do art
and it was about politics but you don’t do politics
and me wanting to take you out on a date do something
other than fuck for a change
and I say theater,
you say movie
I say a play
you say I don’t do plays
and I ask why?

and you say let’s just be close
then you go to rubbing and shit
taking advantage of my sexual adhd
and suddenly we are fucking again
and you are letting me
and I am letting you
and belts are breaking
beds are breaking
and then you are passed out
and I am laid up next to you writing a poem
about how I don’t need to be with you
and the fact that we can’t even talk about this
because this is not the first time I’ve broached the subject
and the distance between us is further than it appears
close enough for fingers to stroke clits
but never close enough to meet in the mind
cause you don’t do that
and I haven’t approached a conversation
with you in the last six months
without a fucking drink in my throat
because it was the only way you made sense
and the distance between us is addiction
we crave the separateness like alcoholics
craving a fifth of whatever's cheapest

you want my touch less than I want to give it to you
and this is how we've stuck ourselves
into an existence neither of us will walk away from
because we don’t know how
even though we know we are not who we used to be
and the best thing about us is bottom beauty and strap-ons
and because I am hopeless romantic and you are lazy
the way we lie,
the way we lie here
it is almost believable

soon there will be nothing left to anchor
us to each other we are going to crash
and burn and drown and I don't imagine
you reaching out or throwing me a life preserver
why would you save me when you couldn't
wouldn't save yourself from me
this shine we've put on this shitty relationship
should shame us both and the fact that I am
in bed with you listening to you snore
writing a poem that you will never read
because you don’t do art
makes me realize how blind we are to the reality
that we actually don't like each other

I love you like a root canal is not sexy
neither is I love you like an exit wound
we are sick in need of a twelve step program
one where we walk away from each other slowly at first
then run like hell and never look back
when you told me you loved me
I was splayed beneath you all moan and cum
I wasn’t even wearing my charm
and I noticed you never loved me with my clothes on

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