Writing

Dogs 2

Dogs 2

He’s young and lost
still learning how to love
so he thinks
maybe its easier
to get a dog.

The emotional crutch
of young men
too broken to know
how to love others.

The one thing
that’ll love you back
without asking for
anything in return
because he’s sure
that’s what love is
giving nothing
and getting everything.
If only his girlfriend
could understand that.

Like a bandaid
on a gunshot wound
he thinks a puppy will fix him
because he doesn’t know
how bad he’s hurt
how the only person
who can save him
is himself.

Writing

Dogs

Dogs

Dear Santa,
I know I’m a little too old
to be writing to you
but I pray to a God
that I know probably doesn’t exist
so I guess I can’t see the harm
in trying.

This year for Christmas
I want a puppy
I’ll even pay for it myself
if I can scrounge up the money
to pay the security deposit
buy the dog
the shots
the food
the love.

You see Santa
I really need this dog.
I’m starting to think
I might have messed up a bit
chosen the wrong major
the wrong girlfriend
the wrong life
but I’m four years into this.
I’m eighty thousand dollars into this.
I’m not about to turn around.

But if I had a dog,
something to love me
the way she can’t
I’m pretty sure
I could hold on
one more day.

Writing

Past Lives

Past Lives

Now when I think of love
I can’t help but think of past lives.

My spirit feels so much older than my body,
and I can’t help but wonder—
maybe if I could find
one of my loves
from those unknown years,
we could have a real shot.

I think about the last boy who I let into my heart.
Knowing we might meet again,
I can let go a little bit easier
because maybe this was just meant to start things,
and he’s not the love for right now
maybe we need a hundred more years
to fit together right and maybe there’s
someone out there who
I’ve been putting work into
for millenniums—

my Right Now

and maybe
I just haven’t met him yet.

It makes it feel so much easier
to think those six months were
nothing
compared to the work I’ve put in
that I don’t even remember.

It makes me feel calm
to think that even my failed loves
I’ll meet again in the future
with $30 in my pocket
or my nails painted sea foam green
with no memory of the hurt
of feeling small
or inadequate,
only a blank slate left
still pulsing with the unnamable energy
of two souls
meant to be.