Blog Post Title One

I told Mauve that I loved him

while we were having sex

It wasn’t exceptional sex, but it was the first time I had managed to feel something that deeply

for someone other than Blue

Afterward, I said to him “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

except, I did

I did love him

for reaching into that corner of me

and holding tight to whatever had been falling down

“I love–“

how easily you lay on his side of the bed without turning to tears

That is something I can’t yet do

“I love–“

how certain parts of your palms are rough in the same places as hiS

I rub them for good luck

The hard parts of you

I love, how you will never say his name

And how you ignore it when I do

I love that he doesn’t exist between us

Instead, he consumes us both in his gaping, screaming absence

“How are your still single?”

You ask at the bar I’d never been to that is almost too good to be true now that I’ve finally stepped inside.
I look at the bottles towering the walls

“Beautiful, huh?”

“I guess” you say.

I wish him back, into the seat you are sitting.

“Beautiful huh?” I say again to the lover in my head

“Exquisite!” they say back to me.

“Check?” the bartender asks, disrupting my fantasy where you are washed away.

I love how you get the check.

And how you order red wine.

I love how you speak so low that I have to lean into you.

I love how you stop to ask for a kiss, instead of snatching my lips from me like the other men do.

I love how you keep going after I’ve said I don’t mean it. 

How the touches, the trips, the love keeps coming.

I love how you pray me down from the edge of the cliff.

“crazy woman” your eyes say to me in a voice much like the devils

or maybe my father’s

or maybe, my own?

No, it is your voice.

Crazy rabid unloving bitch, you gaze at me thinking.

Don’t lie. It’s hate your feeling.
I know what it feels like to hate me too.

Crazy rabid unloving manipulative selfish bitch, you and I think at the same time

and we are both talking about me

and everyone is talking about me.

or maybe it is you they’re all talking about

or maybe it is neither of us?

Neither of us.

We are both nobodies in a bar,

in a bed,

in a bad situation that I’ve created.

and I am not the woman you’ll marry, or the one you’ll remember fondly.

and you are not the man I stop hiding from,

but when I come out of that hidden space

I will give you a call, and hang myself from the dial tone.

“stupid crazy rabid selfish manipulative bitch” you’ll think when you hear the news 

no you won’t.

how unkind.

you are not made of nails and concrete.

you have a tenderness toward me that even you cannot bathe away.

the calling and the hanging will still happen

but I imagine you’ll just look upon a picture of me and think 

“beautiful, huh?”

and my crazy rabid manipulative selfish bitch of a corpse will laugh from above or below you 

“exquisite!”

I love that you stayed long enough to hate me.

Just exquisite.