This poem is dedicated to my exes,
Who Haphazardly tossed and disregarded,
The fruits of my trauma,
Watered by spontaneous bouts of drama,
Tiptoeing on the backs of week long episodes,
When I,
couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun on my skin ,
In broad day light.
7 days when,
the absence of my laughter rattled in my heaving, wheezing ribcage,
Tinkling like loose change,
In his red truck,
in his white Miata,
in his green impala.
This poem is dedicated to my exes,
Who were blinded by the the curvy, supple, sunflowers that bloom in the afternoon sunshine of my irises.
I (beat) can’t help the fact
that what my mama gave me distracted you ,
from the opaque thorns that subtly pepper the thick gnarled vines of the walls of my heart.
This poem is dedicated to my exes,
Who traded me for petite daffodils,
When the boulder of burden pressed a little too hard on my sternum,
Wilting what he thought was unbreakable.
My bad, bro.
–
I hope you find your voice as a man,
in between playing house,
And foolishly tittering on your pony’s saddle.
