i am trying to put myself back together / slam chapbook

slam free or die

i am sitting in my aunts' car
on my way home from a poetry slam
in manchester, nh.
the competition is called
"slam free or die"
and i'll be damned if it wasn't
the free-est slam i'd ever been to.
these people were brilliant.
especially the red haired girl
three tables over.
she's got a tattoo so i knew she was older
she was pretty damn gorgeous
but she wasn't who i needed her to be
she smelled like cigarettes and
clothes from last week
covered by a perfume--
something like berries.
but she's not the kind of girl
you take to meet daddy.

the girl you take to meet the parents
blew me off about five months ago
for the second time.

the poem i presented in the bar
tonight is why.
i read it, then i say nothing.
nobody needs to know the whole story.

on the ride home i keep my arm outstretched,
a force of habit
developed to appease the girl who once sat there
my fingers still move in the motion they did
when i played with her hair.
my head still checks to see if she is there,
turning ever so slightly
searching but not hoping that i'll see her smile and
watch her turn her head to kiss my chin.
this is the girl i took to meet my parents
this is the girl that met my family
this is the girl who i forgave me time and time again.

this is the first girl i came out with.
yet this is the girl who introduced me as her school friend.
because she was afraid of her reputation.

i keep my arm outstretched,
praying that someone will fill the hole
or at least try
but this girl is definitely not the type
when i've got her in my hands
she doesn't feel right.
i'm only good at what's familiar.
yet, it was all once foreign so tonight
i can't remember the girl who fit into me in all the right places
or she made faces from across the space when in spaces
when screaming from the rooftops our relationship wouldn't be gracious.
why does she still have me stuck even though our love is archaic?
because i'm in a bar bathroom and
i've learned red's name and
it's jennifer, she's in college, she's barely 19
i tell her i'm seventeen even though i'm not
i tell her she looks gorgeous
and she tells me it's hot
and somewhat badass that i fell in love with friendship
when in all honesty, i found my poem awfully pathetic
i didn't know much better
as she crashed her hips to my hips
and crashed her lips to my lips
it was the first time i'd kissed someone new since fucking new year's and i swear i muttered "son of a bitch"
when she pulled away.

because for a moment,
she filled the empty space.