Rip It Off
Is there a bandaid out there
That fixes bleeding hearts?
Not one that simply aches
Or is a tad bad, a tad sad,
I need one large enough
For a massive, raw ripping
Of my major organ.
You know when you’re a kid
Your mom could slap a sticker
On a scratch and you were better in
Minutes but tell me how long I’ll
Feel as if the core of my being
Has been dug out with rusted nails
And it gushes with gaslighting
And oozes with broken promises.
Tell me is there a bandage to
Patch up the decimated pieces
Of my arteries cut back to old wounds
And the charred chambers that
Now seep with the thick blood
Of my old trauma that is spilled
Now everywhere everywhere everywhere
Tell me, sweetheart, is there a bandaid
To fix what you’ve done to me?
The Little Things
Why do people compare their
Significant others to such
Significant symbols like
The moon and the stars and the galaxy?
See I was standing in the shower
Shampoo dripping down the strands
Of my curls then onto my neck and
I realized your love envelopes me
Like the suds across my skin
And I’m grinning over my girl.
Then that’s when I tried to put into
Words the way I feel about you, and
Those emotions whirling and I
Wondered why the fuck people say
I love you to the moon and the stars
And love you more than the galaxy or
Blah blah blah
Such bullshit
I’ve never seen the moon in person
And the stars are far away
And the galaxy? Shit I’m not even
Sure that shit is there.
What I do know?
She’s all the small details
Of daily life that make it worth living:
She’s that scalding shower I stood
Steaming under while muscles relax
After a long ass day as an anxious adult
She’s that swirl of creamer into my first
Cup of coffee on a Monday morning
She’s the leaves in October, fiery red
Like her hair when we first met then
Orange and yellow with that chill
Crisp wind that keeps me alive
The rest of the year and
She’s the soft lips against my shoulder
On a Saturday morning before a big
Stretch, knowing you have the day off
Work and adventure ahead of you.
She’s the sunshine streaks
Streaming above Sunday windowsills
She’s your favorite cookie and warm
Brownie your mom made when you were little, yeah she’s comforting and
Delectable and cozy like that
So you see, baby, you’re not these
Monumental, intangible symbols
And metaphors that overstock
Shitty Hobby Lobby shelves and fill
Superficial peoples’ unhappy homes
You are everything that makes ME happy
In my day to day life, everything
That keeps me moving through
The sorrow of winter and
Smiling throughout summer days.
You are everything tangible
And beautiful, right here.
Yes,
She is everything good.