Poem 2 of Shed My Skin: Poems through my divorce era

“Goodbye, I guess,” you said

as you slammed

Your fingers down,

your keys in hand

Well, yeah,

I don’t have a response in queue

Goodbye is most definitely

what I say in lieu

Of “I love you,”

or “Thank you,”

or “Have a great day.”

But I’m not feeling

many feelings today

Mostly numbness,

dumbness,

perplexed at the stuntedness

The lives that could have been,

should have been wanted

A cadence so offbeat

not even a drummer would tap that

A delirium of teariums,

a jungle of harm

A forest of negativity,

particularity, fondulinity.

A made up word.

A decisiveness so controlled

even the dogs feel they’re holed.

A grip, not inquisitive,

not patient, not superlative

But definitive

to the opposite of love.

An affinity for darkness.

A magnetization

towards the black.

A thunder from down under,

A green puce

in stripes down your back

A heated conversation

of how shitty it can get

A yelling, a spelling,

eons of “fuck that.”

A time for us to ponder

that yes it’s really fucking done.

No going back,

no thirty-one chances,

no more ice cream.

I’m all set.

It’s fucking over,

really fucking over,

yes it’s fucking over,

yes it’s done

Go move to your apartment,

go fuck over another one.

Go find someone to listen

to your grating grindings all the time

Go bitch about conservatism

while you lack the liberal eye

Go take and never give back

and get mad at those who do

Go seek out your frazzled motions,

go let yourself stir the stew.

You won’t find many like me,

But then again, you did find thee.

you tousled and pounced upon my hair

And ripped it from my white scalp, it’s bare

Dear, no, I’m never returning to there.

So my bloody mussed up hairdo

is going solo now you see

So goodbye?

No, FUCK OFF, please.

You’ve done terrorized my plea.