JESUS CHRIST MISCHIEF-MAKER
Without my nightlight
When my greatest fear
Became a feeling
Rather than a being.
Breaking the habit
Don’t touch the watch.
I will not miss you because you are not mine to miss.
I will kiss other boys and sometimes kiss girls.
When you text me and tell me that you’re thinking
about the way I look in leggings, I will not take it to heart:
you are horny and alone and your girlfriend doesn’t give you the attention you crave.
it is not my job to give it to you either.
You are an enigma in my life. It isn’t right to be in love with something
I cannot understand, but I understand you’re modest
only because no one tells you how amazing you are;
that you mumble when you’re tired and your lips taste like vanilla and false promises.
Someday you will see me and fall in love the right way. This
will hopefully be followed by a passionate but fatal love affair
that will end because you can’t explain
to your father that you’re in love with a
non-Catholic writer who willingly takes public transport.
It may not be until we run into each other
six months after I decline the invitation to your wedding: You went through with it
and this is expected. I couldn’t watch you marry her.
I won’t remind you that we couldn’t be friends
in college because she read your text messages
when you left the room.
Maybe you’ll sneak around and ruin your marriage to be with me
but ultimately she’ll sign you up for marriage counseling
to work out your issues and you’ll go because she is pregnant;
I’ll write a few thinly veiled poems about you and text you
when I’m drunk. You couldn’t have married me anyway.
I want to move to Seattle, though Maine would also be nice and much more east coast:
either way, I don’t eat seafood so maybe moving to a coastal state is pointless but
at least it’s far away. It’s so far away and you’re probably already
squared away with a tenured teaching position.
Maybe you’ll never see me.
Maybe I already moved and didn’t leave a forwarding address
and your wedding invitation was lost, not ignored.