I miss you

Your too tallness
And your british accent that sounded a bit more like barney the purple dinosaur
I like him, whoever he was you became
I like your glasses and that we both had them
I like. . .
I remember the first night when you called me beautiful
Twice

And you looked at me like I was unbelievable
And remember the second night
(right after the first night)
when we knew we would see each other but I wasn’t sure I would actually see you because I don’t trust
anyone
and I didn’t think you were going to be there
let alone call me
but you did
even before I got there
and it was so easy
it seemed so easy for you to just be who you were and feel how you felt without any stopping
and I wore something cute but not too cute and not too girly because after all I wasn’t dressing for you
I was dressing for me (and that guy I met last night, who, dang I hope I get to see him, but nah, he won’t call because he called me beautiful and he was cute and I lie the way he carried himself so he definitely won’t call)
When all this doubt brings me is truth from my words, and who wants that?
Who really wants to be a fortune teller?

I just want to have a good fortune
Yeah maybe my fortune will include a guy who’s a bit arrogant and thinks he’s in control of everything around him
But I’ll be the better for it because if I’m in his circle he will do anything for me
Because he’s in control
And I think I missed out on that

I had to start looking for holes
I had to start looking for stops
Because I knew things would have to stop
And I do wish I hadn’t stopped but it wasn’t a decision
It was a reaction

I don’t know if you can accept that

I reacted to the situation I was presented with
My brain will hopefully one day fall to the wayside and my heart will rule
(and then hopefully I can then resume action with my brain, because it is in rather good shape)
one day things that don’t make sense won’t matter

I don’t want it to make sense
I want to make nonsense with you
And I want to know that every free moment I have will be filled with you
Like it is now
And like I hope you know it is
Because I don’t want to have any shame either
I want to let you know
But my words are not my own
My words would lead you away
And I want you near

So I stay quiet
And wait to push the doors between us open a bit wider
I want you to enter this space again
And I want you to see me the same way you saw me that night

But I fear

I fear that your sight will be jaded by what you felt and what you think I didn’t feel
And those tears I cried that last night in the park were a bit commercial don’t you think?
But damnit they were real
And god knows why I cried that way that night
But you held me
And you didn’t get mad
And I don’t know how you felt about it

But I felt good and safe in your arms
And it was funny the way the white people started caring about the black girl with the nappy hair

But you wiped my tears
And for some reason that still didn’t register to me to hold on tighter

Somehow I still let you go
But I didn’t want you to go
I just didn’t want to be in limbo anymore

I felt that I didn’t deserve anymore time

Because I knew time was coming to a close
And I felt that I had to do something about it
Be involved in the ticking motion

I like drama
I admit that

But I really did feel something that was completely new and obviously misunderstood

My tears came down hard
And they wouldn’t stop
And remembering them right now is hard because I haven’t cried like that in a loooong time

Before you I have never cried ON someone
I have never let myself reach such a point of weakness in front of someone not myself

And I don’t know if that means anything to you
I don’t know if that registers to you
I did not tell you because we ended soon afterwards
I think
(only because I do not know)
that you left because you didn’t like the feeling
of bending backwards with no one there to spot you
if you fell

and I can understand that
there goes my brain again

you were so honest with me and i had already reached the stop light
and everything had shut down
and I don’t know why or how it happened
but I know the instrument and I will deactivate it
if again I have the chance to meet you for the first time

hurt
I don’t know if I hurt you
If you felt pain from the way I had to act for sanity
Is it worth it?
To be sane?
Is loneliness worth sanity?
I don’t know

You are not every sound I hear
You are not every wind that blows against me
You do not knock me off my feet
But you do force open the wellsprings in me and bring forth music of a kind
You make me full with everything that did and didn’t happen
The memories and the walks
And the words
And the pens on paper
And the nights that ended up lighter than dark

I don’t even have to close my eyes and I am with you

Maybe this is just what poetry is made of though
Maybe this is what feeling is and you were just a beginning
Maybe (this is my attempt to steel myself against the possibility that you may have found another lover or mate while you’ve been away—if you have taken a wife there where I am not, I will lead myself to believe that we were never meant to be and that all of my actions, logic-driven though they may have been, were correct and perfectly calculated to cause me the least amount of pain possible. I will call myself RIGHT, and I’ve heard that’s the problem with us young people these days, we always want to be right. I do want to be right, but I also want to be held)

Will you hold me again?
Will you want me again?
If you see me will you feel anything or have you taken on my symptoms and become well-brained too?

Shall I do all the feeling this time?
Can we both consent to reality?
No matter how heavy it is?
Can I look at you like I want you?

Can I even ask you before you arrive if you are engaged with another?
Is it my business?

I am barefoot with no shoes in sight and I want to drag my feet through the mud of your flesh
Making footprints that will stay forever

I want to stay forever lodged in you as part of you
If I cannot have this, I will selfishly and childishly release all memories (but they will go nowhere)
I will act as if I am strong
And there will be a bulb in my throat that cannot be ignored
So I will excuse myself to a restroom near me and I will shed tears
3, maybe 4
And I will breathe and I will bear the pain of the unswallowable
Because you are not mine
And if I release again it will not be in your arms and therefore will be useless and worthless and inconclusive

Every night following will be cold
Even in the summer
Heat will not be my gift
I will be empty and without

And of course after days and months of thinking of you
And flooding my eyes with water that does not cleanse but only stains
After this, I will rest

But will not forget you
And every so often, as a ritual dance, I will allow myself the pain of remembering you
And again the bulb will rise for me as it did the last time I encountered you

And this will be my life
The days that I live consumed by the absence of you

Copyright © 2006 by Arin Lawrence