What a shame
if there are a million ticking clocks
turning my seconds into hours
drawing miles of silence and
stillness between the have-beens
and the should-bes we could be
if there are pillows waiting behind
every bedroom door for the slightness
of our waking twirling our nightmares
and dreams together into a song we
could be humming as our heads
bend together despite the distance
of our breathing.
If there are
countless lips searching
for the words we should be
speaking or the warmth
we should be shedding for each other
come midnight time or daylight hours.
If there are
endless beer bottles underneath the
smiles that we are weaving and the laughter
that we are howling despite the sleeplessness
of the could-haves and the should-haves
that we keep on silently repeating.
If we only
had torn ourselves away from the
scars we kept on stitching or the wounds
we kept on licking to find the galaxies
hidden in the softness of our fingertips.
If we could’ve been
braver than we believe ourselves to be
or cowardly enough not to admit what we
should or can be.
Maybe I wouldn’t be
waking by dawn and shaking for how
happy I must’ve been just to be sitting
in the shadow of your subtleties.
Maybe you wouldn’t be
finding yourself another set of eyes
to duel with your ideologies or
whatever it is that you may be doing
as I curl into a ball beneath
my sheets and my poetry
I wouldn’t be missing
you this greatly.
I would know how wonderful
It must be to share French toast
In the honey light of early mornings
We are better broken by each other
There are a handful reasons greater
than our wanting, maybe I am happier
resting in the love of another human being.
there never was, maybe we could’ve been
Maybe we’d try again, maybe that’s all
there is to our story
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
Maybe, we almost made it.