Thank you

Words hurt and purse through lips
that once kissed while hips tilted and hit
the right places – no room or space
between us but now youve seen the light
It stings and it sings to you:
A portly cherub needling and wheedling
right between the eyes;
I roll mine and sigh.
I’m glad its clear about your ex
and that boss you really like.
I applaud you for your honesty
but these thoughts dont catch us out
could you have been a bit more quick about it
Because these talks right after fucking
are a bit of a kick in my complex
because sex should just be fun
especially when you like,
or you thought you liked someone.
So now Im back to the beginning
while you pine for old, I pine for new.
You reopened old wounds with my hands
while you bit mine fresh open,
so thank you and fuck you.
Thank you for the lesson.
I learn more every time
I date a girl stuck in some old world
and I dig deeper into mine.
Thanks for giving me my sanctuary
thanks for giving me my space
thanks for making me sound like Morissette
O disillusionment, o consequence, o charity,
silence.

godivaalanis

Woman

You, woman,

with your many forms and faces,

have taken so much from me.

A cash flow now trickles;

a booming heart now constricts.

You, woman,

with your labyrinthinian mind,

have wrapped me in webs.

My body robbed of its bravery;

my mind shorn of its strength.

You, woman,

have your wild world still hidden;

oh baby, baby, its your feminine wiles,

that have binded me to your kind.

You, woman,

embrace who you are,

raise up your dress;

show me your soft secrets

and put me under duress.

You, woman,

with your youth, cold truths

and cruel callous laughs,

should embrace this present power;

for life is long and lingering

and of many a dark hour.

_alpip

Take care

I pulled down my wall

with a caved in chest;

figured getting some fresh air

was probably best.

Hidden in a snow storm,

a snow globe of cold, cold air,

trapped in a glass bauble

while pretending not to care.

I smashed it like a wrecking ball.

I cracked it like ball to bat.

I hit a home run with my escape route,

yet returned,

returned and sat

to stop and stare at my own drowning;

to watch the hand grasp at empty air.

I stood up and held a hand out,

instinct kicks in

to fight

to care.

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You do not have to be good

You do not have to be good

or do as you think you should

while under cloak and dagger

burn fire, would

you want to sprawl and lie and try

to hide

who you are, how you feel inside?

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to bow.

While inside you howl

to the open moon:

a whittled wishbone

over time that is over too soon.

Your lion heart won’t tame you,

your wild wings push through the cage.

Your life is not a stage.

It is real.

What you feel is real.

Stop the games of hide and seek,

there’s no need to hide, or run away;

instead come out, come out, wherever you are.

Come out, come out, as gay.

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Bondage

We talk and type and text and take

the time of those we will never make

the ones we love; its past now: loved,

as we try to forget the past, its shoved

to the back of my black mind

as it twists and turns and tries to find

a way to make sense of this bind.

This bind’s unkind, a bondage, blue,

masochistic; I am for you.

I am? Its passed. You’re past it, through.

I remove the shackles, keep walking through.

Take a leap of faith, they say to me, to you,

but for me the leap is toward truth.

I release the chains of desire for faith,

and I remove the ropes of hope that burn and chafe,

for me the freedom is a different shape.

Its cold and dark and twisted to the core

and I wrap myself around it more

with every word I hear from your hot, hot, mouth

with your heated breath and tastes of dreams

of stars and hearts and scars and screams

of pain and fear and misery

that is what becomes of love to me.

The freedom roars and roars until its hoarse

behind the wall I made myself

I hear the bellows more and more

but the freedom comes from my own health

and right now the wall is freeing

as I sneak peeks at other beings

and feel invincible behind my shield

Ive found a bond, an Achille’s heel,

that plays as Samson’s golden locks

and in my heart this new freedom mocks

but behind my wall I feel safe and free

from the pain that others can pass on to me.

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No more

You say to me:

“I love you.

You are my one and only.

It will always be you.

You are the one.

Maybe we can date

in the summer

and see how things go?

We can take things slow.

And grow

at a healthy pace.

We can learn our lessons

and be the people

we want one another to be.

Rectify mistakes

and recognise where we went wrong.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you too.

It make me happy when you say it

back when I say it to you.”

Then you put a photo on Facebook

of you and the girl.

The one you travelled parts

of the world with.

The one you would give

your time to,

when you ran from me

you ran to.

The one you say:

“I love her too much

to have a relationship with her.

We spoke about it.

We even kissed

but I realised I love you,

it was you I really missed.

I think of you a lot

I miss your pretty face,

I havent had sex since you,

I miss that, miss us, our space.

That tiny little bubble,

it was so intense,

I miss being in love now

and so hence

I joined a dating site,

the one with lots of fish,

but its you I love Jo.

Its you, its us I miss.”

Then you put a picture up on Facebook

of you and the one that helps you spread the pain.

You write:

“I love my beautiful wife so much.”

and I know I won’t do this again.

The Hating of Dating

This devious game of numbers, numbers,

catches me cold, leaves me asunder.

We make mistakes and blurt out blunders;

silence broken by slurps and table legs that thunder.

 

Clock watching and phone checking too,

texting-texting mates? We’re through.

Nothing matters. Nothing is true.

A date with fate? The joke leaves me blue.

 

Rare chemistry and raw connections,

like a strawberry cream in a chocolate selection.

Searching for real love and affection

but looking in the wrong direction.

 

I had it once and now it’s gone.

This dating game carousels on and on.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fun.

I quit the game. I’m gone. I’m done.

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