A Finely Tuned Mess

He used to be confident, now she can’t see him or his shadow called pathetic.

She use to be thinner, which in his mind meant she use to be better.

They both were aware of how little they talked now. A consequence of never shutting up in their twenties.

Happiness has been gone for quite sometime,

Optimism was the latest to leave.

People gravitate towards the kind and the weak for the same reasons: it disguises the state of our own morals.

That’s why they’ve been together for the better half of a decade.

All people romanticize the dead, but she asked him to romanticize her now. He tried with short words:

Love is selfishness in a costume.

Could you play the part for me?

We are shallows and depths

The waves right before they break.



We’re playing make believe,

Living in the dollhouse tucked away

In the corner of your childhood bedroom.

You thought I would be content here,

But I need to look from a window bigger than

Two inches X three and a half inches.

I need more than plastic trees and door handles that don’t turn and painted on smiles.

A Girl I Met on Several Occasions

A Girl I Met On Several Occasions

Blonde hair, blurry eyes.

I said my name three times before she believed it wasn’t Darren.

Short grass became tall snow.

Our town sprawled enough for us to stay hidden from another.

I was blood and water with nowhere to go.

She was a sharp mind, and soft cheek bones that framed my favorite smile.

Only a handful of times did I talk to the real her.

All the other times I talked to the girl who was skin deep happy.

The same kind of happy that appeared only on small screens in purses and pockets.

I think she played dumb for the comfort of her peers.

I reconciled with the version of her in my head,

But never the one that lived nine blocks from my doorway.

Or the girl who was always three drinks ahead of me.

The one girl I thought I could find.

Should I ask for the real you?

Yes men crowd my space.

I’m not sure my voice will hold. I think I’ve lost my way.

Plus I’m practiced at giving up.


I shouldn’t come to the party. I think it might hurt.

I can’t answer the phone, I don’t have the stomach for slurred words tonight.