Esquire Theme by Matthew Buchanan
Social icons by Tim van Damme




sometimes, i can still close my eyes and see
those twisted old oak trees stretching up into
forever blue sky.
if you had asked me that day, when we laid
tangled up in bed and promises neither of us
had the power to keep, i would have said yes.
i would have married you in a pretty lace dress,
stumbled through my vows,
picked at my flowers,
kissed you a little too long
when they announced us husband and wife.
you would have joked about me
getting too tipsy on champagne at the reception
i would have raised my left eyebrow and said my
daddy was right about you not being good enough
for me just to see you laugh.
most days,
i’m glad i never had the chance to make that mistake,
but on others, my body aches for the feel of lace,
the feel of lilies, and the feel of you.

With Silence & Tears

i swore when i saw you again
i’d have something clever to say.
something more meaningful than the
uncertain smiles we both exchanged.
it took twenty minutes for me to forget the pain
maybe twenty three
to forget all that anger, and the hurt.
you tasted like cheap cigarettes and Jack.
but i pressed my body against your thin frame anyways
let myself forget my cunning plans for our reunion
as we tripped laughing over my favorite pair of jeans
i shrugged out of those quickly enough.
i think it must have been those dimples, or maybe the way you
bit my neck in the same spot you used to, all those years ago.
i wish you could remember being better,
you were so much better than what you’ve become,
body strung tight, mind a tangle of bitter coils.
i closed my eyes hard so i wouldn’t have to look into
your sunken face and remember the reasons i dug a razor
deep into my own thighs.
i swore when i saw you again,
i’d have something clever to say.
guess we both break promises.