Lost shoe

There’s a knot in my way
My fingers are too fat to untie
Tightened over time from trying to find
The good in things that were
Quite obviously
Not good at all

And I’m stuck
Trying at the starting line
Again
After all these years
While the race has gone on without me
To get it right
And go

Feeling out of place
Like an old left shoe
Without a match to play
Forgotten
Or thrown away

Like an expired promise
I hold onto
But can’t use anymore

©02.21.2018 ebn

Night

night. 
the dark quiet which ought to promise warmth and comfort, 
but which more often than not brings with it 
the sounds of a settling stomach 
and the restless thoughts of a frustrated heart. 

night. 
which has become a cold and hazy thing 
behind which the moon refuses to burn. 

night. 
an empty well offering no echo 
when curiosity speaks into it. 

night. 
the lonely desert I find myself in 
time and again 
like a burnt out match 
who dreamed of the sun 
too soon.

©02.21.2018 ebn

What won't live out loud

Her mouth is shut
and there's nothing that could make me
pry it open
with dirty little fingers
on angry hands
frustrated because
I don't want a puppet
but a real girl
who speaks
to me

The soft and sweet earnest of a tender plea
Never kisses my ears
though i wait in the same place
day after day
She will not want me

And so
I cannot love her

cannot reach for
what won't reach out

cannot speak for
what won't speak out

cannot live for
what won't live out loud

©02.21.2018 ebn

We're not going to make it

We’re not going to make it
She pretends she doesn’t have the capacity to think
Betraying the fact that she doesn’t want to
She doesn’t want to work at this
Because it has become work
Because she drags her feet

But she’s not lazy
On the contrary
She steals from peter to pay paul
And this rock is crumbling
But she doesn’t care
She is caught up in the way of the world
Depleting her resources
Then moving on

She knows nothing of stewardship
She does not value conservation
She gives without emotion
Without connection
Giving away what isn’t hers
Freely
And counts herself generous

But of herself
There is nothing to be found
Even her body is just a thing
A means to an end
With me

And love
Is nearsighted
With blinders
Selfish
And self serving

So we won’t last
We can’t
Cuz this shit she calls love
Is killing me
Like a leech

And my time is almost gone.

©2.10.18 ebn

This fucking perfect day

the wind whipped her hair
into black flames
as she stood on the roof top smoldering
red at the gate, her back naked
looking out onto the city she loved
that hid the corpse of her love
somewhere behind walls
of brick and steel and glass
where he
dug his grave
with someone else
on this perfect day
this fucking perfect day

©02.08.18 ebn

The gut

the gut
drew a line along her throat
and changed the way
the corner of her mouth curls
when she smiles

something stolen
something knowing
that breathes the same
but bears the scars of a violated mind

that gut
stuck between words that
don’t fit anymore
that hurt to say
because somewhere in them
they betray
her lost innocence

like she was sliced open
emptied
and put on life support
hooked up to someone else's dream
while she learned to hate
being wanted

every glance
puts me in my place
and as much as I want to love her
she is unquestionably
unavailable

@02.08.18 ebn

Love has

Love has like
So many other things going on
That I’m left dirty
Literally
Trying to catch a glimpse of it
So I know which way to reach
Through time
That damned line I’m forced to stand in
When I see something in hindsight
Something right now
I passed long ago
That kills me
Every time it smiles
Or looks at the world
Through eyes that were once mine
Eyes I want back again
And lips to kiss
Before the words come.

©02.08.18 ebn