Woke up
This morning
And found nothing
In the fridge
But water and
A full cup of death.
Jacob was here,
I smelled him
Before I saw him,
And when I saw him
I wish I didn't.
He laid in the middle
Of the living room,
Half naked with
A toke hanging
From the corner of
His mouth.
"Was a good night, Evie."
His voice was gravelly.
"You should have
Come out! The moon, babe,
The moon was so
Beautiful and we were
Animals, free!"
I slipped into the couch
Above his head,
Mouthing the exact
Words he was saying,
"Free like the wind,
Free like the clouds,
Free like the birds
And all the damn animals."
This was my life
And I was trying
To get used to it.
There were times
I wished I changed
The locks so he
Wouldn't enter, then
I remembered it was
His name on the lease.
"Evie, why don't you
Come out with us?"
He was looking at me,
Lying on his stomach,
Propped up on his elbows.
I reached out and
Took the toke, taking
A long, slow drag,
Hoping he would forget
The question by the time
I was finished.
He didn't.
He was waiting.
"Honestly, Jacob?"
He nodded his response.
"Honestly, I don't want
To be free. I want
Security, knowing
What will happen next."
"Freedom holds to many
Unknowns, too much
Responsibility. I can't
Handle that."
"You rather be
A caged bird, Evie?"
His voice was sleepy
But I could hear
The disappointment.
"The caged bird
Can still sing and
Is guaranteed food
And water everyday,"
I answered.
He turned around,
Lying on his back,
Reaching up for his toke,
"What are you doing, today?"
"Same thing I do
Every Sunday,
Airing out this apartment
After you funked it up,"
I replied casually,
Happy for the change
Of subject.
"I loved you,
You know that?"
In a matter of seconds
He was fast asleep.
As I draped the blanket
Over him, tucking him in,
My heart ached because
I knew we were near
The end.
All the times before,
He would say,
"I love you,
You know that?" amd
This was the first time
He ever said "loved".
He loved me and
Sometimes, I question
If I loved him at all.
Submitted to imaginary garden with real toads and dVerse Poets
Monday, April 22, 2013
life,
love,
Love Poem,
Original,
Original Poem,
poem,
poems,
poetry,
Poetry about breaking up,
Poetry about love
Loved
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16 comments:
Powerful narrative, I hope not true.
You are a lovely storyteller... a griot of the highest order :) #PassionEndorsed!
It's a wonderful poem, Lisa. It is the story of my ex-wife and myself with the roles reversed!!!
My interpretation has the cup of death already half drank by Jacob and Evie's turn was next but she declined. I.e. a happy ending if she will be gone in the morning.
..
Such power in your narrative. Love can turn to dislike and have one wondering if love had ever been there...Fantastic Piece!
I love this, and really would love to know the rest of the story!
a difficult story to take in... pain and tenderness tangled... but that is the way of living no matter who you are.
A sad story, to often true,,well written,,no mistaking the difficulty of letting go, or being let go,,,and the memory of the beginning that keeps us doing the tender things,,
... story well told. Like Jim said, happy ending if she is gone by the morning.
As usual, you have a way of bringing the reader in with the exact right symbols, a smooth narrative and you always leave me with a longing ache in the middle of my chest. Your work is perfection, as usual.
When I read your poetry, I always want to know more....want to know the backstory. You have a gift with characterization, of making things real, of capturing a reader's attention and keeping it.
Wow you sure went deep there, hopefully not true to your lair.
dang...really tight write...great job on the narration, but also in making us feel this moment...the pain but also the tenderness leaving me feeling a bit exposed you know...smiles....good poetry
I truly hope this is poetic fiction. That being said, this is so well crafted, gritty and heartbreaking.
As I was reading this I smiled because I know that caged bird feeling and have been with someone who made me feel this way...to say this was felt would be an understatement...earnest piece of writing.
"The caged bird
Can still sing and
Is guaranteed food
And water everyday,"
I answered.
sometimes caged feels so good if for nothing but the illusion of being safe...
This is so sad....
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