The last time

We talk about firsts

First kiss, first fuck, first date

Treat them as relics

Build museums for them

But what about lasts?

The last time you kissed someone

Touched them, loved them

Remembered them

Without even realising it?

'Find someone'

When my mother kept telling me to find someone,

To not be alone in life, I lashed out

Told her to leave me alone

I was so ashamed of my inability to

Make anyone want me

But today, through a keyhole, I got a glimpse of

The vulnerability that comes with a life lived alone

And understood what it has been like for her

And why she has insisted on my finding someone

It reminded me of plastic bags cutting into the skin

Of my fingers gone white from the weight of their contents

Groceries I didn't need to buy, but did to make things easier

For my mother

The heaviness makes my arms ache, my eyes water

But I can carry them because I know that

At the sound of the gate opening, closing

Or the doorbell ringing, my mother would open the door for me

Carry some of the bags inside

But what happens when she is no longer here

For if nature has it's way, she will leave me someday

Who will then open the door for me? Relieve me of those heavy bags?

Who will be here to love me?

Little boxes

You told me you lived out of boxes as a kid

Your parents moved around a lot

I felt almost sorry for you, then

The concept of moving was so foreign to me

I had lived my whole life in one place

The same house, the same town

Not much changing, except a minor renovation here

A death or divorce there

And now, look at you

Living in a little box in my heart

Just another in a pile, like jenga blocks

Marked "do not open"

Taped shut, carboard covered in dust

Lessons

You told me that most crows mate for life

That nineteen is too young to fall in love

Cigarettes made you focus

Moving on is harder when you have no choice

in letting go

You showed me how to build friendship on books

How easily it could fall apart – a house of cards

Keeping secrets and hiding the truth

Pretending that everything was a-okay

even when nothing was

And as a final gift, you’ve now taught me

How to put things away

Settling in with other items forgotten and lost

Like bottles of wine, hidden behind ceramics and glass

The corks turning to dust

Word of the day: Tyro

sandcastles

it's the indignity of hope, of expectation

that i cannot stand

i hope you will sit closer to me,

and when you don't

i wish for a shovel with which i can

bury myself in the sand

disappointment

I sometimes wonder what it would have been like

To fuck you

Although, back when we knew each other

I wouldn't have called it fucking

Even sex would have seemed too crude a word

I was so young

Too young to sleep with someone

Like you

You would have been so confident

About showing me what a man can make a woman

Feel

That I would just lay there, wondering

When it would be over

More

A man who loves me,

Hell, even a man who likes me

The world has taught me to

Lower my expectations

Keep my wishes realistic

But when you almost kiss me

When your hand rests too briefly on my back

I can't stop myself from hoping

For something more