michalis

i.

how many times can my heart break?

I think I am in the running for some kind of medal.

I throw myself at beautiful walls

in sudden high moments of insanity, cave to those

nights you do not want to believe will ever end

unsustainable romances sustain me 

sporadically. I open doors and look out at the vast worlds

they contain that I will never traverse, but I

have stood on the threshold,

And when I close the latch gently I still remember

what the breeze felt like

on my face.


ii.

I told you I was an artist and thus

I could not say that I did not like drama

because I feel everything

I explained to you a sensitivity

that I exhibit now thinking of things

(you said you were not an overthinker, and yet

you seemed to overthink). the thing most men

do not understand about me, is that this

is not meant to be read or understood, this is a form

of knowing myself of letting my feelings find

a form - I remember everything and I feel everything

and somehow I must find a way to

let it go.

iii.

I cannot believe this is happening

he kept saying to me

the words in my mind.

I sat on top of him and we laughed

because he was the moon and he shone

and he said no, Soledad, you are the moon

and you are in every pool.

You bitch you sent me the Pessoa poem.

You knew.

And he was right.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I just didn't know that

he knew it too.

iv.

sometimes we must break ourselves perhaps

there is no other option

v.

i wait to move to the other side

i lie in bed watching the light fade from the day

and try to avoid the twisting of facts by a mind

hungry for control in the face of grief.

grief will not be controlled 

(a woman dressed all in pink walks down the street)

it rears in response

you cannot tell it what to do

and it will leave when it wants to

what you can do however

is love as much as you possibly can

yourself.