Thoughts and Items

lessons in softness

sometimes I forget to be soft

or patient

sometimes I forget to let the daylight in and how to look out the window

or appreciate the way snow falls

or the way a pulse feels

sometimes I answer anything with “okay” or “yes”

sometimes i wear floral prints and moisturize my skin like I ought to

and hold my breath at the right time

save silence for when it counts

watch the fish

in the silence

instead

sometimes I forget to accept what others want

to give so when I take it, it’s

like a rush that goes to my head

but I forget

that I’m good

at taking

it

in the end.

A Letter to Katie, My First Ex

Oh, I guess you go by “Kate” now, probably

because you think it makes you sound more sophisticated

or something, you were always so concerned

with appearances.

When you aren’t much to look at names must be important,

I wouldn’t know –

but this is me

just being egotistical

since that’s what you called me

right

after you said you didn’t ever think about me

but not before you said I’m selfish and self-centered,

which sounds like you have a lot of thoughts

about me,

actually.

You were always a liar, I remember

that much – maybe it’s from

being adopted, or from having some sort of

inferiority complex,

which is probably related to your parents

loving your younger sister more – the one they had

biologically,

at least, that’s what you always said,

maybe that was a lie too,

it’s hard to tell.

It’s funny, you haven’t changed

even over email I can tell

which is funny and fascinating and

tragic

all at once.

Be careful of the city streets,

the subway, the rush –

you were never street savvy and those things

can catch up with you quick.

I don’t remember much,

other than the annoying things: the way you acted

dumb to get what you wanted sometimes and

how you were proud of that,

your eating habits,

how you repeated words you thought were funny

(which hasn’t changed either, since you called me

batshitcrazy

like it was some profound, serious diagnosis – hell,

maybe it is,

you’re the one that dropped out of your

psychology Ph.D. program,

so I guess that makes you a sort of expert, right?),

how your mother was overbearing and your father was pasty,

your refusal to be logical –

I could go on and on. 

But you get the point, I guess.  I just

wanted to say “hi”

but this is what we have now –

your refusal to grow up

and my refusal

to let the chance for a good jab go.