I heard about this theory;
that in the perfect couple,
One will like olives, and the other will not.
One will always eat for the other.
I think that's why we never worked,
You proudly shouted your love for the salted fruit,
While I, meekly, passed mine to you.
You convinced that only you could possibly like them.
And I, well. I simply did not.
It wasn't until the end, the end of us;
......
I can’t stand endings. I hate them.
Beginnings are undoubtedly the most exciting
Middles are confusing, you loved that one game but now it seems old
Endings are just an existential calamity.
I have two children now full-grown
A lovely daughter and handsome son
My daughter was my very firstborn
So for this poem, she's number one
Her birth date comes in early July
She has beautiful strawberry blond hair
And I love to see her let it fly
In the summer breeze without a care
......
“Good things come and go”
A pretty anarchist said to him
her white knuckles brushing
stringy brunette hair from her forehead
“But they always come”
She let out a sigh he could feel in his bones
and it reverberated to his core
She told me of the magic she found in this world
of spells we cast upon ourselves
......
Calloused hands and bruised knuckles
rolled loose leaf tobacco in rice paper
The Sun loving me in the only way it knew how
with violent kisses leaving spots against my skin
Arms wrapped around me in autumn afternoons
words spoken with so much weight
they required delicate whispers
of promises made in the past humidity of summer
"Nothing can wreck our boat" said she
......
Calloused hands and bruised knuckles
rolled loose leaf tobacco in rice paper
The Sun loving me in the only way it knew how
with violent kisses leaving spots against my skin
Arms wrapped around me in autumn afternoons
words spoken with so much weight
they required delicate whispers
of promises made in the past humidity of summer
"Nothing can wreck our boat" said she
......
“Good things come and go”
A pretty anarchist said to him
her white knuckles brushing
stringy brunette hair from her forehead
“But they always come”
She let out a sigh he could feel in his bones
and it reverberated to his core
She told me of the magic she found in this world
of spells we cast upon ourselves
......
It has only been a year since I had graduated college
And in that time much has happened
My father is dead
My eldest sister pregnant with a little boy
My brother shows grey hairs in his curls
My other sister has more degrees than she knows what do with them
and my mother wishes I come home more often
My friends no longer call as often
I have lost a sense of hope
......
I can’t stand endings. I hate them.
Beginnings are undoubtedly the most exciting
Middles are confusing, you loved that one game but now it seems old
Endings are just an existential calamity.
I heard about this theory;
that in the perfect couple,
One will like olives, and the other will not.
One will always eat for the other.
I think that's why we never worked,
You proudly shouted your love for the salted fruit,
While I, meekly, passed mine to you.
You convinced that only you could possibly like them.
And I, well. I simply did not.
It wasn't until the end, the end of us;
......