These poems I wrote for school and for life...

I Quit Smoking Again (Revision)

I think I’ve heard this before,

whatever story you’re reciting,

again.

Intrigued by those wisps of smoke

dancing around your face.

The curtain you exhale blurs your dull, green eyes,

that familiar gap between your teeth,

the red hue of your tired eyelids,

your dry lips,

your smooth tongue

forming inconsequential words.

Does it ever occur to you that

we’re repeating?

But I listen,

again.

I watch you blow smoke.

Riot (Revision)

You catch crows on your tongue,

pilfer hearts from shirt pockets,

tell me to eat marginalia

because the book is too hard to digest.

I’ll rummage betwixt lines and letters,

powder my nose with an ax,

chop eyelashes to refine my perception

if you’ll pretend my tail isn’t mine.

You’ll level me

like a screwdriver molests screws.

My pockets vacant.

Black plumage stuck to my tongue.

Things I Won’t Think About Before Bed (I didn't even like that guy)

That stupid black beanie

pulled down over your ears.

It would have looked ridiculous if you weren’t so damn beautiful.

The comment I made about our matching aviator sunglasses,

and how I looked so small in the reflection.

My chest void of breath when you took them off to stare at me

with that translucent blue

that sees right through my opaque brown.

Your lips, parted in that crooked smile.

The woman’s name, etched on a banner, wrapped

around a rose.

Those classic Chuck Taylors.

Your hand on the small of my back

Or the way you didn’t look back when you finally left.