Maybe, Maybe Not

People are never where they say they are

They are sitting across you

But you don’t know that you are staring at a shell

While the host has left the building

But you are quick to leave also

And all that’s left are two unreal people trying to be real

You remember too well the loneliness of Real meets Fake

You ended up talking, eating, walking, making love

Only with yourself

She just happened to be there

But the key to her box was lost

And never sought after anymore

She couldn’t take anyone chasing after her anymore

All about her, her kinky hair, her loose clothes and bathroom slippers

Spelled contentment in who she ended up being

Pleasant and pleasing herself without anyone say so

So you went ahead and did the foolishness of loving her even more

Because you hate not having

And when she finally gave

A lazy “I love you too”

Heavens should have come for you

But it barely brushed past your “Maybe tomorrow she will love me”

She ended marrying you

Gave you children

Lived blissfully

But your happiness had never made a come back

Your eyes still thinking and saying:

“Maybe tomorrow she will love me”

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V.

I just turned off the mood regulator in my car. No more injections for me today what with the peaks of anger and valleys of anxiety being fairly predictable lately. Blame it on my ability to travel back in time and pinpoint exactly the hurt and the pain down to their smell and location. It’s this emotional thinking that hinders my performance. This moment right here requires far more bravery than I can currently master so I play it safe and let behavioral rituals take over.

 

Performance, ah! Father’s magic word, but now that he’s gone, my boss seems to have picked up le manteau, but he’s in for a surprise. You see, I have never had it out with Father so I just can’t wait for the boss to make me reach critical levels of anger to throw an apple pie to his face.

 

I know a girl who brought summer with her wherever how she went. Thinking I would find it in her apartment, I broke in to find out how she did it. Needless to say I was way out of my depths because I realized that my scent was all over the place and I had come home finally. I spread myself on her couch, my face beaming and left terrestrial time zones for the divine ones.

I only returned when I heard someone at the door searching for keys and I scrambled out of there as quick as possible.

V. had spring in her walk and sometimes winter in her eyes especially when I mishandled her heart because I had convinced myself that I was bad for her. For me. For everyone. But she had an amazing knack for self-preservation. Just as I was about to make her stay in hell with me, she escaped back to what kept her light and shiny. How could she stay bright year in and out? With or without me?

 

I don’t know how long I have vacillated and swung between self-harm and altruism, alternating between heights of blissful love and depths of self-loathing but I’m still around; at least the few bits of me that keep bringing V. back in my life. I still pray and hope she will never find out le connard que je suis.

This Week on the News

“According to a news release from the university of Southern Denmark, physicists have long predicted that the universe may one day collapse and that everything in it will be compressed to a tiny hard ball”

 

As if I didn’t have my hands, and my mouth and my plate full

I haven’t clipped my toenails in awhile

I haven’t watched Terminator and Rambo in that movie where they are both in jail

I haven’t said “I forgive you” to my father who passed away

I haven’t dusted off my heart

To see if it’s still any good

I have kept my tongue sharp though

Always ready to draw blood

So the universe can collapse all it wants

I will file a deferment request with God

As soon as I finish my hot cocoa, and my hot bath, and the Scandal finale.

To the Black Mountain

In the evening as the sun played Peek-a-boo with us mortals

I went up to the black mountain

To talk with my father, a black Buddha

I never remember what we say to one another

But his baritone, loving voice will resonate

In my body throughout the day

And the next day I find out that I am not myself

I mean I am more myself today than yesterday

I wear the same clothes

Drive the same car

Snore as always

But the “me” today isn’t the “me” yesterday

Excess has fallen off between today and yesterday

Lost but not missed

The resonance of Father’s voice grow stronger everyday

I get caught humming the creating of galaxies

Unaware that every tune is rewriting my genetic code

This is the beginning of the end

Every daily death brings me closer to Father

All I have to do is live this moment fully until final death

And my body will be dusted away to the four winds

And all of me that matters will be with Father

Until the end of worlds.

Eyes Wide Open

My man sleeps eyes wide open

With the TV on and a quiet despair

I know he stopped by OFC on his way here

And asked for wings

To reach the summits of America

But I’m sure the server told him

That he was mistaken about the services OFC provided

For $8.99, he could get a bucket of chicken wings,

Chicken thighs and chicken breasts

Nothing more, nothing less

He would then come home

With a sober mouth and a heart drunk with rage

He would pull our son to the side

And whisper in his ears:

Repeat after: Impossible is nothing

Impossible is nothing

Impossible is nothing

Go to public school

And come out with no hands or body skills

Go to university

And come out with a flipping burgers degree

Get a job and watch your dream turn mute, deaf and blind

And you will die at sixty

Because life broke your heart

Of course I never let him finish

But sometimes I’m caught up in the kitchen

Where he finally comes to give me a kiss

Fermented with the aches of his day

And I return his kiss with mine filled with my own aches

Later in the bedroom

The volume turned down on a rerun of Seinfield

He was sitting at the edge of the bed crying peacefully

Reassuring he would sleep soon

At 2 am I would find him in my arms

His eyes wide open

His breathing deep and slow

And I would remember with horror

That he predicted that the day

He would close his eyes

Was the way he would die

But for as long as he lived

He had to keep his eyes wide open

Staring life in the face

Nothing is as burdensome as a corpse

Nothing is as burdensome as an  overweight corpse

He said to himself as he grabbed the folds of his flesh

While standing naked in front of the mirror

Naked and annoyed

Then he opened his fridge

And stood there lost in thought

He liked the artificial kiss of the cold on his warm skin

Then he emptied his entire fridge in trash bags

Ice cream, beer, cheese, milk, eggs, pop, cakes and meats

All went into the trash bag

But as he was about to go outside

He realized he was still naked

Naked and free

But he went back to put on some shorts

And then went to the dumpster and threw it away

He returned to his house and wrote an email to his ex wife:

“Make sure they throw me to the sharks when I’m dead.”

He saved it in the drafts folder like all the others

Today was a new day

A good day to be saved

But he was thirsty and hungry now

He sat for God knows how long

Thinking about all his food in the dumpster

And the maggots having a feast day

Today was a good day to swim

oh to swim in the waters of salvation

and to be made new

if the sharks don’t get to him first

No one Must Know

It wasn’t the endless hours at his job that made him leak like that

At least he told himself that every morning

As he peered into the eyes of his reflection

Trying to sink those words all the way down to his bones

Before he could go out to greet the world

He had to make sure beyond the clouds of doubt

That his face only carried the proper feelings

For anyone he interacted with in this concrete jungle

No one must know

Or even hear the rumble, the sound of Earth groaning,

rolling around in his belly

Whenever someone would see past the face he wore

And he would only feel safe

When he has put a world between him and that person

That was the only thing that gave him shivering nightmares

To be found out for the adventurous, freak of nature that he was

So he suffered his job with a suppliant’s heart

The fear of unemployment was his fear of God

And he knew the hollowness in him could only spread

Until his name would be swallowed up by it

All traces of his person would evaporate

As if he never existed

So no one must know

Or see past the face he had on

The world would never be the same again.