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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
collection of small questions and hope.

Submitted: September 14, 2010

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Submitted: September 14, 2010



In spring
The hedge-blossom falls amongst the unclothed briars overnight and makes me think there’s snow again. It makes me think I’ve more time with you, in winter, while I see that swarms of insects weave revival in the blooms and affirm it’s time to mend. Horned cattle mosey round, knowing more than I with coats that burn away to calves in the merlot light, sparring with the hour. The timely lemon lust of you with her, contented, will make me throw-away, will goad my hyper self dissection in compliance to the floral mockery. There’s a smile round my eyes old and inward, cracking my insides, defying the empty oak sensation as I know now you’re happy. Walk on till the scent of summer prompts a fall and a way out of change. Live long in her citrusy care and the awe similar save for bones and for voices, I’m a safe space apart at the turn of you head and I’m left bending kisses to crowns for you have what you want. I can’t be at peace now that you are, though it’s been my goal and my reason for this waste. I must strive to find my own peace
In sleeplessness
Sometimes I wish we could be how we used to be. It doesn’t feel real now, our fierce and intimate existence. And I find it hard not to see the motives now in every word that changed my soul. Tonight you tell me that you love her. You tell me that no one has cared for you as much as her. And I should feel happier. And I do smile, I’m smiling; I’m so happy for you. But you don’t need me. that’s it. You just won’t use me like you used to. And I cant see the use in myself beyond that. Sometimes I swear to turn this into something beautiful. And I just end up talking into sleep, like now, and like every other fucking night. One day I’ll tell her in some quite drunken state of loving you, to keep you safe and conquer what I couldn’t. And honestly I’ll want you to hear. I don’t know how I can admit that, but I’ll want you there knowing I still care. See I’m selfish, concerned with myself and sometimes I scream broken-hearted that I’m so in love with you. Its taken far too long get here; to this simple sickly tired place.
In waking
This morning I wake knowing somewhere you’re waking with her.
I was her before she came.
The worst is knowing that it could have been any other dumb-struck boy
me and you
knowing how we were and who you became was not even my effect
I want to make sure none of this happens again to you
but I think it will
with someone else
when you’re down and needing someone to love you
This morning you wake with her
two in love
and I can’t pretend I don’t wish it were me
I was her before she came
please keep him safe and loved
I admit I’m sitting here waiting
for her to be gone and you to be chatty excited
this morning it’s like I’m right back at the start
falling in love with your love
In Starbucks
There was a strength he drew on in that moment. Not wholly healthy, assuredly, but a gritty resolute type of strength that he felt contract through his bones. Tightening, irreversibly he feared. Something made him face the sun head on, from the moment that morning when he clapped eyes on her, the simple justification for forging independent thought and the birth of new feeling. Pray this lasts. Pray it balances everything else.

© Copyright 2017 Alex Jose. All rights reserved.

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