Saturday, November 13, 2010

just dont make it a love song

she called me and
asked me out for drinks
(with the gang)
i said: hey, i'm almost all the way home anyway and,
besides,
it's probly not such a great idea
since you know how i'm so hung up on you,
i cant get you outta my head and
thats because i keep seeing you there
(in my head)
so what good do you think can come for me of
my seeing you in person one more time,
and with drinks on top of it?—

she told me,
like bragging,
those weeks ago
that
she was too broken, after i told her
all those things i told her,
so i backed up,
and she set out
for a few days
treating me like an asshole
to prove how broken she was.
when that didnt work she
stopped talking to me so much.
when that didnt work she
started reminding me how crazy i was—
kept bringing up how i was hung up on her.
when that didnt work she decided to
remind me
how much she wanted to see me
every day, and
how much she missed me
and she's been calling me ever since,
and now she invited me out for those drinks.

maybe she thinks if she gets close enough
to where she imagines this dream version of her is,
she can figure out which broken pieces are missing
so she can try to fill them in.

what she fails to realize
is that broken is what i love.
perfect bores the fuck out of me.
obviously

2 comments:

Peter Greene said...

good poem!

having run both models now in my life, I will agree with the band Yes:

owner of a lonely heart/much better than an/owner of a broken heart

Thanks for the poem -
PG

Trina DeMattei said...

Great piece, love it.