Early Morning

6 06 2011

Staring at his hands as he drives me to work I grin with excitement remembering what he can do with them.





A Saturday

30 04 2011

I know he’s stoned when he thinks the wine opener is amazing, talks about the smell of the cork, then imitates the Geico lizard.





Notes from my iphone

4 04 2011

I look for the book I brought pretending I have the intention of reading knowing I was half asleep before coming to lie down. Instead, I pour a glass of wine from the bottle I hid. Gollumly, I stare at the half pain pill I took from my mother’s bottle. Precious indeed. Only the wine won’t rid my mouth of the after taste.
Fighting sleep. Avoiding the pages, scrolling through Facebook.
I am giving him enough time to wake up on the couch and realize I never got my goodnight. And as I type…

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

Now I can sleep.





7 03 2011

His love is a wound. A tear in flesh. A portal in space.
Leading to warmth. A regeneration of life.
But healing shut the cement hardens and I’m left frantically
picking and ripping, letting the love that remains out to flourish.





29 12 2010

He is there.
Introducing her.
I check my phone and text,”I love you.”
Suddenly the chair next to me feels emptier than before.





27 12 2010

He asks if we have stuff to make nachos. I know what this means.

He sinks his head farther into his hoody, “I’ll help” he says softly

“That’s okay.” I send him to the Quick Stop to pick up more beer or wine, or both. I ask him to put a record on. He picks the Beatles. A quiet static then “Here comes the sun…”
He comes from behind as I wash a pan, kissing me fanatically up and down the side of my neck and cheek.

“I love you baby”, he says, resting his chin on my shoulder.

The words won’t reciprocate. A tight grin to stifle the tears. He knows I am powerless.





27 12 2010


And suddenly they were just words and they didn’t mean anything.