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"Heavy Shit"

I cracked an empty vase today.

Glass shards reflective in
millions of pieces strewn
over carpeted feet.
crimson red droplets formed
over angry tones and a now un-silenced room.

he should be here by now.

the clock ticks. tocks.
seconds of agonizing minutes turn
the large hand beckoning the small hand
to lie, I am begging to disagree
surely a sign of loneliness.

tick. tock.

petals.

fragrance now turned into an
uneasy smell of velvety red flowers
bloomed too easily-
a gentle reminder and sadistic pun
of my life. sweet and kind that
flowers are his apologies
as words never found consonants and
consonants never meet vowels and syllables
across his tongue.

he shouldve brought me forget-me-nots.

tick. tock.

great memory. gerber daisies are my first love,
not roses.

click.
I run my thumb in one swipe
against the hard case enveloped against the fluid
to ignite my flame, menthol tobacco
fills the air
unescaped by closed windows.

breathe in. inhalation.
breathe out. exhalation.
in.
forgiveness.
out.
forget this shit.

tick. tock.

clouds of billowed smoke
fill the room, a painful reminder
of stress as I
decompress, hands over chrome knobs
run water/ time to re-dress.
put slippers on. fuck it. won't vacuum at a time like this.

this is some heavy shit.

let his feet hit the glass and feel some pain
let his formed blood be the remembrance again
of past lives and future stories
tall tale lies and mystery girls whoring.

tick. tock.

forget the cracked vase
broken to pieces, an heirloom
of treasure now trash
to be collected on a cold sunless morning.
or is that Tuesday? what the hell
it will come soon.

forget the apologies and
unwelcome sincerity
increase in my mouth to expel vulgarities
as he creates another lie to me.

tick. tock.

forget the tea-lit candles
dancing on white walls
and fragrant petals replaced by
offensive cigarette air.

forget the hours on the clock
as you disrespect my time/stand me up
to lay with a woman with no care
geographically not here. but there.

call it a woman's intuition.

cause when you turn this door,
unlock the key-
crisp. cold. confused. sheets beckon for you to see
that the warmth you get tonight
ain't gonna come from me.

tick. tock.


-b.r.rivera

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