Week 1: It’s a Twister
We’re not in Kansas,
Idaho, or Virginia anymore.
What has been written
On the wall
Is now written in history.

Day 8 Strike 1: Ossification
When we were a million miles apart
On the same bed,
After your flashback unrelated to me,
I wanted to say it right,
“It is you who I crave,”
But it came too many days too late.

Nothing seems to get in
Your skin
Because mine is so jacked.
You have been classified
As secret.
You have been ossified.

Perhaps you are a mirror of my former me.

Week 2: Failure to Resist and Launch
You are far from perfect,
But you are irresistible.
As hard as I try to stay on the topic
Of proactive action,
I am mesmerized by the ways you veer off course.

You yourself are a half-cooked sticky situation.

Will we ever have a serious conversation?
I must remember,
“When there's no time for joking
There's a hole in my plan.”

Day 17 Strike 2: A Songwriter’s Questions
Do you want to get to know me?
Or do you want me to get to know you?

I cannot hear a yes to the former,
With my bad hearing,
And you cannot see all my noes
To your demanding dominance,
With your poor sight.
I can lead you to my water fountain,
But your noes prevent you from
Drinking my love.

How does it feeeel
To have the burden of responsibility
To both our feelings?

When I say it right,
There’s nothing else I can say,
Thus I give you a heads up
About the rabbit tail you never followed,
“From my mouth I could sing you
Another brick that I laid.”

Day 20: A Songwriter’s Questions (Continued)
You’ll let me know when you’re ready to knock on my heaven’s door, right?
You have a small window of opportunity left—
To make three strikes in 30 days.

This experiment…failed.

Day 23: The End
I feel so much ambivalence
No matter which way I turn
In my sleep, or when I lie in awakening.
I know there will never be enough
Said
Or unsaid
Nor enough
Time, money,
Answers, understanding, compromise
To ever satisfactorily
Be at peace with you.
No matter what happens,
And despite everything
From our past lives,
I enjoyed every minute
Of the last few weeks
(And every minute counts).
Today it’s a blue thing that I am future-oriented.
"You take the blue pill, the story ends.”
So I say,
“Boy, we’ve had a real good time
And I wish you the best on your way…
Not that I don’t care about you
Just that things got so compliquées.”

May the road rise to meet you
When you understand how to be
Happy because you sing.

07/26/2017

Author's Note: This is a break-up letter.

Posted on 07/26/2017
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