phase one: heartache & alcoholic beverages spilled beside her (the girl).
equation: a sleepy girl that understands
loneliness & hurt ^ years of being alone x a physicist,
trapped under debt & a wanting of physical contact.
i’d never entertained the idea
of leaving the scars along my heart
without stitches or hydrogen peroxide,
though now that i know
the eyes of our cosmos,
a vast & oddly blue universe,
i can say i’ve tasted chaos,
& precious damnation
all mixed into the mimosa of my
very existence. i can say
that nothing had ever felt so good
than letting the fibers
of his irises stab my heart,
yet heal me all the same.
we are but a single stretch of life,
smeared across our
twisted up in gunpowder
that would never ignite during our days
spent in the countryside,
cradled in the arms
of the milky moonlight
as my fingertips trace butchered
russian over his hipbones.
& it was then i learned, as my cracked
ruby lips met his chest;
time on this magnificent sphere
of water & grass & land
& lava is a precious thing
just ready to be wasted
by ignorant eyes,
& chain-bound minds.
“i love you,” i whisper.
phase two: heartache & seeing her at his side (the physicist).
equation: debt & the constant reminder
that he’s alone without her ^ fear of being abandoned x a girl,
suffocated by the world(is allowed to breathe while in his arms).
it is possible this is nothing more
than a flimsy watercolor on the canvas
of this world,
of this woman,
draped over my hip, of her singing alcohol-laden
lullabies to a god no one can hear,
a god not even i can prove true;
slices of a ginger sundown puncture my
& her lips meet my chest.
she is tired,
she is weak, & my stomach is feeling
heavy with the prospect
of losing her,
of misunderstanding a plight of hers.
“i love you,” she says,
the pain of nine years spent without happiness,
without someone hanging
on her icy eyelashes,
on her sensitive skin i had never touched
with intentions to bruise
frozen in the phrase i’d never been offered,
the choice i’d never been given,
her lips lingering just above my thrumming
my aortas pumping nervous
blood all throughout my vibrating being,
trying to muster up a 1,000 reasons
why i couldn’t respond,
why i couldn’t accept the invitation
to break her insides,
to break her walls,
to misunderstand her wants, needs, &
“i…” quiver. quiver. shake.
a 100,000 anxious atoms quaking at the
rumble of her voice,
at the wake of her submission to my will.
science or physics; they cease to
understand my sentiments, my regrets
& my serotonin level rising exponentially
with the moments ticking by,
her love known, dangling in the air, before me,
given to me. of all the scientists,
of all the men in the world,
she had to hand me the sutures,
the anesthesia, & the needles, begging
for me to mend her unbroken heart.
“…love you…too.” stutter. blush. shutter.
Another poem about loving someone with a prestigious professions! Bleh.
i love the use of perspective in this, and also I love the setup with 'phase one/two' Its actually perfect.
Fascinating... your words lead me irresistibly onward, like stepping stones through unknown gardens in the twilight. I follow, I follow, I will always follow the will-o-wisp of your thoughts, your stories.
Oh, wow. Thank you so much.
As a physicist, and an aspiring writer, I must say, I love this!