Two Short Poems

How quickly we forget our beginnings
times when I insisted I need nothing
but pen and paper
conversation
Looking for nothing
but calm
confidence
and transcendental communication

Now I know his head's on fire
it's all lit up just like mine
Breathing deeply to push himself to speak
Biting his lip to take any step
toward the abyss we're pacing
Just like the first time
he sighed and called himself a wuss
and I kissed him a little tipsy and probably too hard

We laid on the bed on the floor
the light soft and white
the bluegrass I'd loved so often
seeping through the wall
Everyone else tearing it up
While we got high and barely touched

It was just like I always imagined
when my time finally came
when my youth finally peaked
and all my most frequent daydreams
came to manifest

He said you leave me breatheless
and I played him a song
and he reached to grab me
then screamed where have you been
and I smiled without looking in his eyes

I told him
if you're a girl I'm a tree
and these kinds of timelines don't sit will with me
I said,
I knew him in a past life
but this time you crossed me
then you both shook hands
and had a laugh
and so what kind of line is that?

and Anyways!
the time is marked in leaves
the wind gets stronger
as the voices through the branches get shorter
and the dry fall turns to a cacophony
of dead yellows and greens

We go to the woods once a week
on paved paths and inside fences
You lay in the grass and commune
with the moon next to me
and you don't ask any questions
when I wave like the leaves
or speak about visions
or tell you my dreams

You just nod your head
Like you're the only one
who doesn't care that I'm crazy

***

I can't sit still and hold down my skirt
can't suppress my throbbing processes
can't help but look to him
and wait for another proof
of my right to self worth
preferably in the form of objectification
though I'd settle
for genuine affection
Since, I guess it's still attention

And in my thirst,
I feel it coming back
searching past layers of consciousness
for a means to cope
anything but being vulnerable and exposed
Possibly with no hand to hold
just my voice
hanging in the dark only for its own sake
trying to pretend there was nothing staked
on this release
No pressure at all to undo the beliefs

formed every time I asked the question
Do you love me?
Could you love me?
Will you love me?
and Nothing
just silence
it's easier just to keep quiet

He's waiting for me to talk
He spends 5 minutes chewing his opinions
and another 5 spitting it out
while I zig zag through trains of thought
and fall deeper and deeper
down rungs of doubt
til my reasons to speak all have gone
and clarity all fades into dark

It comes again when the sunshine breaks
through the window
on the passenger side of his car
and floods all the transformers and culdesacs
and piles of grain
that lead the way home
back to the place where
He sets his hand on my head
and I take a deep breathe
and then forget that
he's still holding back