Lindsay’s Scribblings

Everyone who knew me,
 knew.
You knew me too,
didn’t you?

Anxiety is worthless
I always know what you really mean
I am just too easily inundated
With the polite imperative of
Implausible alternatives
To accept the subtle

Only my implied
Messages
And defiantly jostling
Elbow
Have the audacity
To ask
The question
My silence
And raised eyebrows
Why not?
Why can’t you?
I don’t want excuses.
I don’t want tension.
I want you.
Why not?

This jacket
Is more of a blanket
Than a coat
Oversized and familiar
And I’ve missed it
This jacket
Is a peace token
Genuine warmth
Overwhelming
What remained of
Frigidity.

 

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Ironic
The things I’ve written of you
In a crepe-papered journal
On the art-pressed pages
In a gel-y metallic blue
Ironic
The early violet curlicues
Just before the blank remainder
Adorning the parchment
In ever-darkening hues

We fit
Sliding simply
Into these roles
With only
Briefest trepidation
And then succumbing
To the pressure
Of meshing cogs
We fit
Exactly as we are
In this back-to-back
Tribulation
Confirming
Our very
Separation
With benevolent
Detachment
We fit
Not altogether
Unexpectedly
But shockingly well
After rusting
Apart.

A mendacious cloud
Of scandal
Is diffusing
Beyond my grasp
In an impersonally
Direct
Assault
On my character
And the hand of
Sanity
I am accused
Of clinging to
Too tightly
Is my only
Grounding
Against
This outrageous thunder
Of falsehood
And assiduity.
I will not
Let Go.

Don’t say that
Don’t say what
Is not true
How can you
Sit idly by
As she lies?

I would have-
I would have.
I would have
Acted on those words you finally said.
But you
Wouldn’t have.
Or couldn’t have
Or at the least
Didn’t.
I would have,
But you didn’t.
And the words
Were just a little
Too late.

 

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Carbon copy
Bled though from
The original
And ripped off
Permanent markers
Made to
Make a mark
Writing all over
My past
And editing history
To match
The new color scheme