If I Misspoke

If I misspoke it wasn't my intention, but

we were like two sisters gossiping, and

I forgot that you are really an old lonely

man

I hoped there would be a sacred space

created from the years we had spent

apart

I envisioned fairytales, I agonized over

prayers, I willed benedictions from the

pope for us, and the sacrament we had

created from our lonely bodies

Then I realized, sage doesn't always come

with age,

we've become two stones that refused to

be moved, content with where we've been,

too selfish to move even an inch closer

You and I wanted the convenience and

leisure of our own hours, love became a

hobby to us,

when we said the words, "I love you," we

were drunk with mad insincerity,

intimacy was a gasp inside, a haunted

whim that tantalized, all eternity played

with our senses, and the illusion of my

love for you made me into a quivering

girl, sucking the gap between your teeth,

DID YOU SMILE?

There were the raw and casual

conversations I had with myself

always about you, never included you

Truth be told there was no more vacancy

inside my heart,

Jesus needed to open up an extra space

cuz the hatred is stronger now

Oh, then there is my little girl popping her

Prozac, and the circus of meds that

cannot cure her

I am occupied with her needs, and the

needs of the rest of the dysfunctional

family,

I've committed myself to, there is a

marriage in all of that

not necessarily a husband

Every day I sip on very large diet sodas,

visiting me in every room,

my constant companion, my soul mate is

caffeine,

there is a very real relationship to

addiction

My youth has passed into deeper places,

where emotions start splitting and

chopping themselves up to fit into the

small structures in the mind,

shelving and re-shelving

alphabetizing,

compartmentalizing themselves,

when the bridges inside have all

collapsed, and the good intentions

quickly slip into quicksand

I've lost the truth of what it means to have

and love a man

perhaps love loses its power in

translation

I searched too often over the mirrors of

the past, not being able to move

without shattering the images of lovers

that are no longer real

we have passed into legend, into the

mythical worlds of centaurs and unicorns

where we no longer exist

there is no word spoken bravely enough

as love, in the mansion of its intent

there are many rooms

I am like a child lost in its gothic

grandeur, so many possessions in

ourselves, we are unwilling to let go

there is no abandon anymore, no

surrender, when the battles we have

waged within ourselves continue,

by this time no longer soldiers willing to

take orders, now generals in charge of

whole battalions, we are without humility

the decorations and the wounds that now

cover us, no turning back

(Taken from the book The Girl and Other Poems by Matty B Duran sold on Amazon.com)