PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When that early morning sunshine filters through the palm fronds
and yanks me from my slumber
to hear the sound of the steel drum band
only to realize its only my cell-phone ring
and the sun setting behind my vertical blinds
maybe I'll remember why I'm still in your clothes
(although we both know they're mine now).

The voice across the invisible wire speaks
of arguments and a ride
that will cost me a quarter of a tank.
If it weren't her I'd go back to the scent of you
and not waste the gas,
but I could never say no to her. 

An hour later
after placing her in the arms of her lover for safe keeping,
an energy drink, and three sugar packets,
my eyelids are trying to get me killed
because a roll cage doesn't mean shit if you can't fix the inevitable damage
caused by the force of impact
of fist to skull
when mother finds out.

I should be asleep.
I need to be asleep
next to you, of course.
My own bed will do for now
as long as I can hope to feel you,
maybe, tomorrow. I'll wear your shirt

to see who wears it at 9:00
when it's time to use up more gas.

Coffee sounds good about now;
with lots of cream and sugar
to hide my bitter taste
(artificial sweetness is almost real)

and I'll try to explain love
to someone who is in it
because she does not know
you
like I do.

But that's a poor excuse on my part.
She knew you
once upon a time in a land far, far away
(also known as the internet),
three years ago

when the world was young
and the three of us were even younger
then we are now
because three years has changed us
completely
although not at all
like we should have been.

I don't bite my nails anymore,
but you already knew that.
Those gashes down your back will scar
and all will know you are mine.