• I Was What I am Not

    by  • July 27, 2013 • To You, Waxing Poetic • 0 Comments

    I was a wound
    Two extra shots of vodka
    A tangled knot of hair that must be ripped out
    The phone ringing in a silent theatre
    A tac to the toe
    The bloody hangnail

    I was, at a time
    Metal in lightning
    The boy’s first erection,
    The old man’s last
    I was a pen that’s run out of ink
    My father’s nightmare
    My mother’s mirage

    I, a manic, high, drunk, insane
    Which is to say: I was a bad idea
    A dream gone wrong
    A hope forgotten

    Herpes despite the condom
    Something I know better,
    Who had I become?
    Vibrator with no batteries
    Yep, used

    I was the morning after
    The name he can’t remember
    Still in my bed
    Get out

    I, the typo in a brilliant novel
    The desirable sweetalk
    Leading to unprotected
    Fallen fame in the back seat of a taxi
    Ruined, scared, alone

    The married coworker
    Was not me

    A lost child
    A black cat
    I was, not new or uncommon
    Not brilliant or beautiful
    I was,

    But now,
    I was what I am not

    You are,

    You, the band aid
    The friend, holding my hair
    The brush
    The silent button
    A scab, one single drop of blood
    Yes, you are nail clippers

    You are, once in a while
    The rubber on a metal pole
    Girls first period,
    The old woman’s last
    A new slick pen
    My fathers dream
    My mothers desire

    You, calm, charming, sober, sane
    Which is to say: you are a great idea
    A dream pursued
    A hope achieved

    No herpes, no condom
    Something better, I know
    You are a vibrator
    With batteries
    New, brand new

    The morning after
    You know my name?
    Crawl out of bed
    Coffee in hand
    Pancake aroma
    Please, never leave

    You, the perfect story
    The desirable sweet-talk
    Leading to unprotected
    Peak of fame, screaming fans
    Wanted, fearless, comfort

    The loyal man
    Was not me

    A found child
    A free kitten
    You are original and scarce
    You are,

    Naked, wearing socks
    Freckle in your eye
    Your breath smells
    But oh, how I love it

    You are a laugh for no reason
    And love for every reason
    You are a poem I cannot write
    A word I cannot translate
    You are an exit with no escape
    A foreign place
    A name I cannot bring myself
    To say

    You are
    Yes, you


    Fuck you

    Fuck me

    Love me?
    Yes, always

    I am

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