grow up

why do i constantly

have to be

the teacher

i teach you about girls

about their conniving ways

about their jealous betrayals

about their constant need for attention.

and after it all

i may as well have been talking to a wall

you're a smart guy

you have a good job

you have great relationships with others

you are responsible with finances and friendships

and yet you're blind

to the ways of womankind

you stare at the red, shiny apple

when you know you shouldn't

you fall into her trap

without even noticing the net

you view the situation

through your single rose colored lens

when will you wake up?

when will you realize?

when will you grow up?

hey you

don't try to figure them out

read them for what they are

you say a lot of things

i'm not sure you really mean

i need time to think this through

i've known people like you -

because you're like me

you think impulsively

but you're emotions are passionate

and what's ironic

is that those are traits desire

i need that fuel to light my fire

but sometimes two flames together

are a bit too much

and we'll eventually combust

into a pile of disastrous dust.

so forgive me

for thinking carefully.

and give me time

to figure out this tangled mind.

Leftovers

I’m a fridge full of leftovers.

There’s some rotten broccoli in the bottom drawer

And if you open it, you can be sure it’ll smell up the entire room

like a smelly broccoli boom.

There’s some fermented orange juice on the top shelf

Bulging and ready to pop its cap

At the simplest little aggravated tap.

And if you open the freezer you'll be sure to find

A nice layer of frosty frozen freezer burn

Which has ruined any flavor of food it has spurned.

These relationship leftovers are scattered in my heart

Just waiting to cause a mess;

Ruin all relationships to leave me loveless

They linger in the laziness of disposal

You want to throw them out;

to be rid of them no doubt

But each time, it’s easier just to close the door and walk away

Deal with them some other day.

But how long til someone stops risking to open the door?

Should I Go?

Should I go home?

The question follows me like a shadow.

Sometimes I feel so alone.

But then the sun hits my face

and a palm tree sways in the breeze

and for a minute, the loneliness is erased.

Should I go home?

It weighs constantly on my mind,

But I've never had such greats friends on my own.

My girls are there for me through good and bad

and back at home,

this is something I never had.

Should I go home?

When I'm there I feel so out of place

and find myself in public off in my zone.

I realize that an outsider is what I've become.

their lives and mine don't seem to fit.

Can this be changed? What can be done?

Should I go home?

Are you going to be worth the risk?

Codependence I refuse to condone,

but you might be worth the sacrifice.

Please tell me, should I go home?

Are You Ready?

To Whom It May Concern:

If I chose you, could you handle it? Sure, from there I look like a pretty good deal. Pushed away and held at arm's length you can't see the flaws. The broken heart, the anger that lies just beneath the calm surface, the glare behind the smile, the tears and silent sea that floats under my eyes. The secrets of my heart will never be exposed to you. You will never really know me because you can't. I will slip away into silence in the middle of a party. I will yell at you for things that are not your fault and never could be. I will try to control your life because it's easier than controlling my own. I will constantly complain about details that are unfixable and unimportant. I will cry at things that are sad to no one else. I will never be 100% sure on anything; including you. I will talk incessantly and make threats that will appear real for about five minutes. I will hit you and scream and then regret it immediately afterwards. I will beg for your forgiveness until I know I have it and then do something else to piss you off. I will hate you more passionately than I have ever felt.

I will love you too much. I will do everything I can to make you be everything you share with me and more. I will constantly push you to do better. I will look forward to seeing you at night and spending our weekend mornings in bed until noon. I will spend hours thinking of the perfect date and then laugh when it flops. I will laugh and make you laugh harder than you ever have. I will charm you into my way most of the time. I will win most arguments and let you know that I've won just in case you didn't realize it. I will paint our house in bright colors that you will hate and cook meals that we can't pronounce. I will leave miniature disasters for you to clean and break things that you can't fix. I will expect you to earn the money while I raise the kids that I had on a whim. I will be everything you wanted and what you can't stand. I hope you realize what you're getting yourself into.

Are you ready?

Lists

Things I love about you...

#1. You never let our conversations end on a bad note.

#2. You don't use words cheaply.

#3. You make me more patient and more considerate.

#4. You drive a beat-up Taurus with no a/c.

#5. You listen when we argue.

#6. You argue back.

#7. You call for no reason.

#8. You beat me in sports. All sports.

#9. Your friends love their girlfriends/wives.

#10. You're dedicated to anything you commit to.

#11. You love your family and they love you.

#12. You take your mom ice cream for no reason.

#13. You get excited over simple things.

#14. You're successful in whatever you put your mind to.

#15. You have a picture of us in your room and there are dust marks underneath it.

Things I dislike about you

#1. You text all the time

#2. You ignore me for baseball.

#3. You don't know how to have a relationship.

#4. You cling to your past.

#5. You're overly organized.

#6. You work long hours for no extra pay.

#7. You delay answers that will annoy me/others.

#8. You can't say no.

#9. Any type of new experience intimidates you.

#10. You live in Freeburg and are totally content with it.

#11. You won't call me your girlfriend (which is what I am).

I love lists.

They give a sense of purpose.

They're a distraction

from boring classes

boring meetings

grading and homework and

reality.

I make lists of reality

but rarely are they completed.

I make to-do lists for events

that cannot possibly be completed

for months.

I know I'll lose the list by then

but I write it anyway.

I carelessly toss it into a bag

lose it

start over.

A vicious cycle of ignoring reality.

Waitin' on You

When I bring up your name

The conversation always ends the same.

It’s a quote I’m getting rather sick of using:

It’s a sigh and then, “I dunno…we’ll see”

What will we see?

That you’re desperately afraid of me?

That you’re playing a game and getting by on a smile

And I’m playing one too – called denial.

Are you really like the taxi cab without its light?

Am I a passenger on a missionless plight?

Because the voice inside me is screaming

That from this all I need some meaning.

Call it a commitment, call it a label,

But without it, I soon won’t be able

To justify being in a cab with no ends to the mean

Because slowly a fraud this is beginning to seem.

I have places to go and goals to reach

And I’m sorry that I’m appearing to preach,

But it’s getting harder and harder to sacrifice

For something unsurely worth the price.

You say you want me to move home for me

But I’m not sure why you can’t see

That the only reason I’d come back to Illinois

Is to spend the rest of my life with you boy.

A scary prospect for us both I understand,

But if I’m willing to make it, I need you to be a man.

Step up and say what it is you want

I’m weary of the run-around, just make it blunt.

Because boo, I’ve got things to do

And I’m getting real sick of waitin on you.

Alarm Clocks

I wake up 5 minutes before the alarm.
Always.
Why? Why?
I lay quietly, staring blankly at the phone - willing it to be wrong.
4:25...4:26...
ugh...
4 more minutes of you.
I roll over and bury my head into the little cave of escape between your shoulder and the pillow.
No...no...
Why does it always go this way?
I breathe you in.
Deep.
1 minute.
Your alarm sounds.
It's the Balinese chimes one that I secretly kind of like.
You groan and silence it.
Peace.
I snuggle back down into you.
Smile and sigh.
Then comes the honking, shrieking, shrill scream of your back-up alarm.
It grates every nerve and a tiny rush of rage protests against my closed lips.
I hate that one.
So much.
You silence it.
Peace...
Wait.
Where's my alarm?
I glance at my phone.
4:32.
You have two alarms and mine isn't even set right.
Typical.

Turning Point Promise

Sitting on your bathroom floor
watching you get ready.
The conversation lulls
I feel the sad familiar silence creep around us.
It settles on the yellow glow
of cheap lighting and outdated wallpaper.
My white bikini I love so much glows garishly;
its sunny assumption mocks our misery.
You feel the silence - the same in every language -
and sit down slowly on the tub.
You look down at me with that tortured sadness -
I have come to recognize it well.
It was a blankness if you didn't know him,
but a pained expression if you did.
The pain that comes with choosing
when there is a loss on both sides of the choice.
The blue that usually sparkles like pool water when the sun hides behind a cloud for a moment -
it sinks a little.
It turns a little gray and you can feel the chill
just as when the sun is covered and the shade hits your warm skin.
But unlike the sun,
this was a sadness we both knew would last.
You pull me up on your lap.

"lori"
"What?"
"Lori - look at me"
"What."
"Promise me something. Please?"
"Why? What?"
"Lori, I know you upset with me, but please look in my eyes."
"Ok! What?!" Fighting back tears has become a daily routine. "What?"
"You must promise me that you go away somewhere from here. Far away"
"Why?"
"Because, Lori, when you fly away, you find yourself. You find so much you didn't know before. Promise me, Lori."
"...but..."
"Promise."
"Ok, I promise."

It's been exactly 3 years since the moment that changed my life. And I think that I'll go home tonight and offer you a toast. For out of an emotional destruction that filled the walls of the little college bathroom rose the best experience of my life. I promised you I would run, and you did just that. Ran. I questioned a promise made to a ghost, and wondered why I should listen to someone who didn't care enough to take a risk for me. And then I decided that the promise wasn't for you. The risk wasn't for you. It was for me.

Phone Call

The day starts in a cloudy gray gloom
Wandering around the apartment, I know it’ll be sunny soon.
In an effort to waste time, I write you a letter,
Knowing all along that I should know better.
The sun burns through, and I start to gather my things.
Sunblock, book, towel – I hear the phone ring.
“Do you know who this is?” asks a voice far away.
Instantly I do, but I don’t know what to say.
Yes says my heart, but no says my voice,
And I know that quickly I must make a choice.
Why are you calling me? What do I do?
Is it a good idea for me to talk to you?
It’s taken me three years to not think about you every day.
I hear you falter. “I didn’t know to call…is this ok?”
“Sure,” I hesitate, “It’s been a long enough time…”
Silently I convince myself that this is fine.
We talk like old friends about our families, work, and life,
But never once do you mention your wife.
You know, the one that for me you wouldn’t lose,
Only explaining, “I has to do what is right; not what my heart choose.”
You talk about wanting to come and see everybody,
Both of us knowing that by “everybody” you mean me.
Your sister phones and you change your speech quickly
Hearing your Polish, I’m smacked with reality.
What am I doing? This isn’t fair.
Not to me. Not to her. Love isn’t something to share.
“I just hope to always stay friends,” you explain.
But why don’t you understand that things will never be the same?
You chose a life arranged and far away from me,
And it’s not my fault that you ended up unhappy.
You say you’ll call again, but I already know
That next time it rings, straight to voicemail you’ll go.
The conversation ends with your typical “ciao”.
My eyes fill with tears. It’s cloudy again now.

losing game

i call you boo
and you call me that too
we text all day
and joke and play
you can make me smile
even though i haven't seen yours in a while
it all seems so simple and fun
but hasn't this been done?
a relationship repeat
has again become my heart's beat
by why?
because i still want to fly?
if that's true,
then why am i anchoring myself to you?
clearly you're not going anywhere
so why am i allowing myself to care?
another impossible fate;
it's all i seem to date
it's like i'm playing a game where i inevitably must choose
knowing all along that we'll both lose

the fire

may you live all the days of your life
and not waste them in front of a screen
or surrounding yourself in useless strife
there are places to go and things to be seen
but i feel like you don't understand
you seem ok with repetition and a life that's bland
i want you to see that the time that you waste, you can't get back
but you recline and let the days slip past
without even seeing them crash
yes, family and friends are invaluable,
but the opportunities you're missing are incalcuable
there's a world out there!
don't you feel the pull of the open air?
don't you feel the walls pushing in?
don't you want to fight against the pin?
spread your wings and fly away!
you know you can always come back someday.
i realize i can't control your life or desire,
but i don't know if i can live without that fire...