If We Ever Talk Again

If we ever talk again

I’m going to say that I’m just fine.

I’m going to lie

To avoid any more excess humiliation

But in reality I am broken

Because I was always fragile

I’m angry because I’m volatile

I’d give you some crocodile tears

But but we already have the Nile

So I’m probably going to avoid you

Only speak when spoken to

I’m not going to disperse my thoughts in the air

I have pages instead

And I don’t tread lightly

But I’m lucky that you’re not going to find this thread

You might be a literary mind

But my poetry is something you’ve never read

Even though I put it online

And let it fasten a position in time

Unaware of where it may be or lead

I’m going to fluctuate between looking extra good

And extra mundane

Because I want to prove I would’ve been a worthy gain

But avoid driving myself insane

Because it’s not like impressing you can accomplish anything anymore

For you have left me naked on the kitchen floor

Out of place

Out of face

Out of the race

For your heart

I’m icy, tacit, and embarrassed

Distant from where I should be

Departed from being me

Now I’m the moron who couldn’t see

Who was blinded by the promises you didn’t make by your lips

Severed by unspoken words

Who had faith in the unheard

And followed the herd of other girls battling for your affection

Hoping for an erection

On multiple levels

Praying that you would stand up and express something

But we are an unfinished sentence

We could’ve been brilliant

Or potent

But now no one can comprehend what’s happening to the subject

Who it is

Whether it’s man or rodent

I might be sparse with punctuation

But each of my poems are silenced with a period

And I can only see commas

Some grandiloquent speech

But no miniature dot

Signifying some completion

And at this point I’d rather have a deletion than a few words

Lingering on a page

Because fragments are a cage

That I do not wish to be confined within

And I can’t blame you

You’ve committed no sin

Except for giving me unnecessary hope

But boy, you are like dope

You bring me so high

That when you exit my life

Everything seems unworthy in comparison

My mind and body cannot repair their definitions of normal

Of happiness

Of love

Some of my friends declare confrontation is the best field of action

While the wiser advise that

I shouldn’t ever speak to you again

But even though you are her lover

You were still my friend

And so if the opportunity arises

(Which it never will)

I will hand you this chronicle

Of poetry

Of words I was forbidden to say

Hoping you would understand them

In your own sacred way

And each period of each poem

Will compose a fraction of the period of our sentence

Until some finality is generated

I don’t care if the product is voluminous

Or luminous

Whether it takes up a few lines or paragraphs

On your heart

Just that it ends

So someone new can start.