a trashcan journey,
looking for love
in all the wrong places,
amid the smell
of moldy sex,
stinking in putrid drops
from garbage can rim,
vile contents from
Face covered in ants
by discarded condoms,
naked unprotected hearts
drowning in coughed spit
and clouded eyes.
for groveling sex
as they squeeze
bodies like toothpaste
until they run dry.
One night stand
buried in trash can
at a time
I was hugging the toilet in the bar, and you graciously came over and held my hair back, murmuring "You'll be okay" again and again while I retched and heaved. In hindsight, it was kind of a strange thing for a guy to do, but I was in no position to question it at the time.
You had no way of knowing I hadn't had a drink, that I was on an infrequent night on the town as I battled the effects of the chemo, but you made it a point to be sure I was okay. You sat with me for two hours, not saying a word, just sitting with me. As I finally, shakingly staggered to my feet, you guided me back out into the bar. "You with people?" you asked. "No, just me. Workaholic bachelor." "I'll call you a cab then." And you waited with me until it came.
As the cabbie drove me home, I kept thinking how kind the world can be sometimes if you let it, and, when it came down to it, how much I loved you with all my heart, though I'll probably never see you again.
#lovepoetry #prosechallenge #loveamongstthestench
Hold your tongue and save your breath,
For I know already you love me most.
As I hold your hand and we fight death,
Now is certainly no time to boast.
Jaws of life try to cut us free
The firemen look worried, even pitiful;
I've always loved you since we were three,
Now the only fire between us is literal.
My last memory of you for which my mind yearns
To forget is your scream as your flesh burns.
You want a love story? Alright. I should warn you, this one doesn't have a happy ending. Everyone always expects love stories to end with them ending up together. I personally call bullshit. I have loved a total of twice in my lifetime, and both have ended in failure. The first was when I was younger than I am today. We met on a trip, and it was a whirlwind romance of me being denied every step of the way. I wore down his steep walls only to be given a "we should just be friends" a week into dating. Then there is the more recent one, a sexual love. We had passion that would have made the gods jealous, and I loved him. The issue was that he was thinking with his dick and I with my heart. Well I followed the same pattern, ignored all the warning signs, and got hit with another god damned we should be friends. So there's your love story. Except this main character didn't get his guy, he just got a pint.
Wild young rock n roll.
Belting it out in cacophonous runs.
Then there was you,
a lick and a psalm;
My heart hums in harmony
Captured together in a dungeon of doom,
Little more than a bed in a concrete-floored room.
Yet you with me,
As happy as can be,
Until this place finally becomes our tomb.
He came to life in the garden sealed behind heavy iron gates
flanked by guards with attending wings wide open.
His mind returned among that vibrant life,
catching sight of sanity in glimpses of unimaginable flowers.
The most beautiful often drooled down the front of her apron.
She lapped up whatever she was given,
endearing herself to the staff.
That fuzzy feeling made him a little sick.
He was touched by her smile shining through all of that.
Lived for exchanged looks when they were wheeled past.
They sat on opposite sides of the pond today,
he hoped for a lucid glimmer.
A blank face was all she had to offer
before her head lolled back onto her chest.
The smell of smoke heavily wafted through the dark cafe, barely masking the faint stench of vomit and urine. This wasn't the most savory place for a woman of any type, but the roar of the crowds, the fights, the romantic touches in the dark - all too tempting for a curious girl like me. I had meant to stay no more than an hour, actually thinking I would be so repulsed and leaving within the minute. But here I am, every Friday night, breathing in the smoke and alcohol coming off of someone else's breath. It was always too hot, too cramped. The doors would barricade all exits for fresh air to come in. It was stifling in every way possible. And I loved it. It was so sickly sweet I could taste every emotion on my tongue. I never drank that much, only a glass or two. Despite the rambunctious crowds, the scantily clad girls, and every voice singing its heart out, this was not a joint meant for partying. It was a world within a world, it's only purpose being to shut out whatever life you wished to escape from. Whatever activities that may include - drinking, dancing, sex, whatever. I preferred to watch from the bar. I gazed into eyes that did not meet mine. I could see the longing and contentment replace every bit of hopelessness and despair. A man would laugh over a glass of whiskey. A woman would get lost in the music. A girl would lean into the chest of her lover, draping her head on their shoulder and reaching up to tenderly caress their face with her hand. I was once that girl. Sometimes, I still am. I was never one to enjoy one-time flings, but I reveled in the feeling of being held, of being safe. For once, I could forget my story and trick myself into believing I was living in another world entirely.
Love You Like Vomit
So filled am I with love for you
Like my student who does so spew
The vibrant colors and the stink
The intensity the same, I think
Ever intruding, both, on all five senses
Your love, his vomit, leaves me defenseless
A drunken topple
Onto my own vomit
Now I feel awful
This I do admit
But you were lovely
The way that you sway
You, on top of me
How I love you that way
Now that we're done
And puke on my shirt
I truly had fun
Getting under your skirt
An exotic encounter
Delivered with pride
Your money's on the counter
My Uber is outside