Micro

Like all the little things you do

How you ask me how i’m doing

How you encourage me to get out of bed

How you let me know when you’ll be home

How you celebrate my small wins

Though those are even few and far between

i lose more than i win

Always failing

And i forget to see

Your micro love

And all that you do for me

True love isn’t in the grand gestures

It’s in the everyday ones

And in the way you softly say,

“hey”

Advertisements

Untitled/021917

Tell me about him.
He was sixteen once,
but then again, maybe he’s only ever been
sixteen.
He loves motorcycles.
And women,
three women.
One me.
Ink under skin, all over.
Vaguely remember owls,
screech owls.
Cigarettes,
the taste of tobacco on his lips.
The scent of bourbon
as he exhales into my hair.
Rough hands rest gently
on me.
A motorcycle accident,
I lived it a thousand times
before it ever happened.
“You hungry?” and “How are you?”
Whispers in the middle of the night
between arms
that keep holding on.
Promises to our children
that we’ll do the best we can
and then try to do better,
and those same promises
are for me too.
He’s twenty-five, a good man.

notice posted/return to sender

a week ago you said it’s simple
i said it’s complicated
this week you say it’s complicated
i say it’s simple
we’ve made a mess
but it’s beautiful
you’re wrestling
trying to settle your own heart
i’ve ripped off the label
that said “handle with care”
but i don’t think you’ve noticed
that i can’t break in the same way
i used to
i’m posting a new sign
“free, please take all”
and i’ve drifted back
to the only home i’ve ever known
all you gotta do is
turn on the porch light
and leave the key under the mat

R: “Okay. We can do that.”

we had a beautiful conversation,
it was the middle of the night
and you wanted to know
what my intentions are.
i was only gonna ask you
about work and tell you
more about the boys’ day
but instead you spilled
your heart and caught me
so off guard, i struggled
to say anything back
that would matter
even half as much
as your words.
though i doubt you knew
how much they meant to me.
i wonder if you call me
a friend.
would you introduce me
as “my ex-wife, bree,”
“my sons’ mom, bree,”
or “my friend, bree”?
maybe you’d just say
my name, without a title.
i think i’d like that.
i can’t remember the last time
you said my name.

float back to me, please

i notice when you have sunglasses
and i notice more when you don’t
but still i do not look in your eyes
i’m sure that if i do i will forget
how to breathe
and yet i barely remember their color
and question whether my memory
is correct or created
are they the even honey brown
that i’ve always thought they were?
or something else entirely?

you showed me the ring you got
a symbol for our youngest son
you took it off your finger
and handed it to me
my first thought
was to put it on my finger
my left ring finger
stopped myself just in time
and slipped it on my pinkie instead
we talked about the ring a second
before i handed it back to you

tonight was one of those nights
the nights where i forget who we are
forget that we don’t talk often
tonight you smiled, i smiled
tonight you laughed, i laughed
we talked about life
talked about little things
you told me how much you love
riding your motorcycle
and you gotta fix your tire
i told you about my soon-to-be-born nephew
and his name and how unfortunate it is

In response to Eyes.

If we were having coffee… (Everyday Inspiration, Day 11)

If we were having coffee, you might notice
that I am distant. I feel lost.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you
that I took a step towards ruining a friendship.

If we were having coffee, you’d see
that I really do want him to stick around.

If we were having coffee, I might tell you
how confused I sometimes feel.

If we were having coffee, I’d wonder
what you would say about my life.

Let Social Media Inspire You (Everyday Inspiration, Day 7)

*Note: The main part of this task was to get inspired by a tweet, but an alternate route was to get inspired from a quote from Goodreads, so I chose that path.

“A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.”
Elbert Hubbard

By this definition, I have about 2 and a half friends. This is totally cool with me though because I like it better that way, being close to only a few people, but being extremely close to them. So here’s how 2 and a half breaks down: H is about three quarters of a friend, my sister-in-law JT is about three quarters of a friend, and R accounts for one whole friend.

The reason H counts for only three quarters is because he doesn’t know everything yet and honestly I’m not sure if he’ll stick around once he knows the darker parts of my soul, but I hope he stays. JT is only at three quarters because she knows almost everything, but her love is conditional to a degree. R knows basically everything (except a few details of the past 2+ years that I haven’t found a way to tell him about) and his love is truly unconditional. I don’t think I really want more friends than these. I know JT and R would both be there for me in a heart beat if I asked for their help. I love H and JT in the way I love my siblings (well most of my siblings, except MK, but that’s a whole different story).

But R, of course, is in a different category because well for starters he was/is my first love, it meant enough that I married him, and to top it off he’s the father of my children, so even though we are now divorced (or maybe we’re not, I never got any final papers) I still count him as my closest friend. We disagreed about preschool in my parents’ driveway yesterday and during every moment of it I felt love for him, even when I was jumping up and down in frustration and he laughed a little, even when he questioned whether or not he himself had turned out okay and I wanted to yell at him not out of spite or anger but out of frustration that he does not see what an amazing man he has become.

childhood friend

when the air conditioner’s too cool
and you crave the warm outside air

I’m drinking coffee from a can,
but coffee’s always come in a can

like the ones we used as stilts
when we were twelve or eleven

and my best friend’s name started with K,
but her real one started with A

she never used that name until
she married a “man” who abused her

they had a daughter
who was born ill, now she’s eight

K now goes by K again
and has another daughter with another man

she has blue eyes and blond hair
not like her Mexican sister

the new man drives race cars
and makes friends with butterflies

it’s been too long since we’ve talked,
but I guess that’s what happens

we drift away until we all float alone
in the ocean, waiting to collide

One-Word Inspiration: Secret (Everyday Inspiration, Day 3)

so many secrets
i haven’t yet shared
but i’m in no rush
i feel like
we have a lifetime

and knowing
doesn’t mean you know me
i am more
than my secrets
and you are too

you’ve given me
a few to keep
and i cherish that,
not the secrets themselves
but the trust in sharing

i’ll reveal my secrets
to you in time,
but like i said,
i believe we have
all the time we want