Pictures

Pictures

The following is just a quick little poem dedicated to my partner, Si. I am reaping the benefits of his secret photography during our time apart.   He likes to take pictures. He has one of those Fancy cameras With the lenses You can take on and off. He takes pictures When people aren’t looking All people, Strangers and friends alike. Rarely, they catch him, And he looks away. I take pictures Of him taking pictures All of it, In secret. I show him later Or not at all, Keeping the memories for myself, Like the faces he makes When he thinks no one’s watching. He takes pictures Of me, sometimes, When I ask him to, Like when we travel. I used to hide from the lens But now I try to see myself Through his eyes. He makes albums Of his pictures, His people-watching...

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Twenty Four

Twenty Four

It’s been a hell of a ride. 24 years have brought me Hardships and beauty And a new perspective. I honestly wouldn’t change a single thing. If anything in my life had been different I wouldn’t be who I am. And I have to say I love myself. I love that I can grow And learn something new about myself Or about the world Every single day. I love that I can empathize With so many different people With so many different experiences. I love that with this fresh perspective I’ve become less judgmental And more genuinely accepting. To me, Challenges are just that. I know absolutely That there is nothing I can’t overcome. Nothing will ever break me. My hardships Are accomplishments. I’ve survived sexual, physical, mental, emotional, verbal, and financial abuse At the hands...

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Belonging

Belonging

Wrapped up In your jacket, Inhaling Memories. It’s intoxicating, Reminding me Of our three weeks Of bliss. Wish you were here. It’s heaven And hell- Devoted, Infatuated, Separated. I drive, Chasing the moon, To feel closer to you, Knowing it’s the same In the sky Over England. If I close my eyes You could almost be here, Whispering, Ever so softly, That you love me. I grew accustomed To your presence- Holding your hand, And the joy I felt In making you laugh. Home is no longer Where I lay my head. It’s not the lake I love so dearly Or writing my mother’s name In the sand At the beach. Home Is my head on your chest, Wrapped up in you. It’s the sound Of your voice. And walking away In that godforsaken airport Was agony. There is a hole In my heart now- Having left...

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Mind the Gap

Mind the Gap

Twisting And turning And man-spreading. Women With bags And crossed ankles And a dozen rings. Lights flickering And scooters And stained fabric From the hundred asses That came before yours. Stale air Punctuated With too much cologne On businessmen Wearing dead animals On their feet. Raucous laughter of youth Disturbing quiet patrons, Sweaty and tired. Designer handbags And hair all a mess. Too much make-up And too-tight dresses And old men Who can’t avert their eyes. Accents And languages And pockmarked faces Awash in florescent lighting And the stares of strangers With nothing better to look at. In the darkness Of the tunnels It could be any hour. The LCD glow Of phone screens Illuminate faces When the lights Unexpectedly dim. But even still, We’re surrounded...

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Aeroplane

Aeroplane

I like watching The little airplane Move across the screen, Showing me Where I am. If I look out the window, Into the darkness, I think I see the ocean Below the clouds. The food is terrible And the coffee is worse But the company isn’t so bad And I like the sound Of the wind rushing past. Earlier We passed over Canada. This is the farthest North I’ve ever been. I could watch a movie- It might help pass the time. Try and get some rest. But how could I sleep Surrounded by darkness And negative temperatures And time zones. How could I close my eyes For even a second And miss turbulence [my favorite] Or the little airplane Mimicking the big airplane As we careen across the Atlantic? Everyone has an Irish accent, Including the captain, And it puts me at ease. There’s...

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