Saturday, November 23, 2013

From the Passenger's Eyes

On your passenger's side
Back here again <////3 
Give.Give.Give 

You'll be my heart's demise
You'll have it no other way
I love you
I can't tell you this 

You'll be my hearts assassin 
I know this because you've
come very close.

I'm sitting on your right side 

Front 
seat 
of 
your 
ride

The passenger's side

How fitting,
you're driving-
A reckless driver 
Texting at the wheel 
You could care less 
You asked me here
I came here

My heart said yes 
My head got dressed and put on
makeup unwillingly

You pay me no mind 
Texting her over and over
I see you 

You're mad 
You're fighting with her
I know all these things 
I know you well

I can't say these things to you 
I can't show I care. 
I can't tell you I dream of you and me 
when our passion was lit like a wild fire 

I can't tell you you....
(You turn to glance at me as I write these words feverishly) 
...I sit quiet as you type away 

Spilling your heart out to her 
As I write this poem to you 
A poem you'll never read

I touch your arm and neck
I caress you
Attempting to soothe your pain 

You don't touch me 
You think my affection
is of another world 

I have grown and I know now 
That I am just fine 
This world accepts my loving nature 

I am not strange 
I am a lover 
Dying to love you 

You won't let me 
You are confused 
You might want to 
You might not 
You might have a grand plan 
You might not have one at all 

Your kiss is different 
It is passionless 
It is not that of a lover 

Why have you asked me here 
You asked to see me repeatedly 
You take me to a home goods store to run errands-
 playing husband n wife 

You are selfish, yet you ask for nothing 
You are selfish and return only the things that cost money 
You are selfish, yet you don't want sex. 
You want my heart.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

ROCK...PAPER..

ROCK.PAPER.SEVERED 

 I see your text, 
 lay the phone down, 
 and put my pen to the paper. 

 REPLY.PAPER.LIPSTICK 

 I used to write champagne-infused chocolate strawberry love poems about you. 
 Now, I write gunpowder and fire packed tragedies. 

 RAGE.PAPER.SMASHED 

I see another one of your texts, 
press my lips to the paper, 
and light a match RECK.PAPER.FLAME

Monday, November 11, 2013

Meditation

I dream deep fields of color 


In the fall I close my eyes 
 and step curiously twisting down rows of beautiful 
orange pumpkin patches and dancing in apple orchards 
looking for him hiding among the foliage 
playing our game 


Summer slumber makes me soar
through great big purple vineyards 
holding his hand pretending 
he was mine forever 

Spring sleep brings a rainbow, scented sea of color. 
An enormous bouquet of flowers of all varieties... 
Blues, greens, whites, pinks, reds and yellows.
I pick a few and hold them close to my nose 
I see his smile 

In the winter I dream of a white blanket of snow 
under a black sky lit with stars that resemble Christmas lights. 
Red is the color of the fire I sit in front of. 
I imagine the warmth consumes me 
as I breathe in the heat of the room into my soul. 


Photographs by IIya Rashap