roberta

roberta

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i guess i see it now. i see how i wanted to change you with love. but i forgot about my own welfare. i forgot to care for me.

scar

slouching beside you in that booth, flipping your arm over, you tell me before i even see the fault: a scar across your wrist. looked like you were trying to kill yourself. a piece of glass--an accident--and i'm kissing you now in your car, snowing, waiting for my own car to warm.

what an odd mix to come across. and now, now it all makes sense: a hiding, a blending, a weird shade here and there. i excused you, and when i didn't anymore(when i wore out) you left because you couldn't hide those ugly, ugly truths.

view

and even though i'm bundled, feeling trapped and childlike--a puffy coat, mittens half-out of full pockets, a scarf to the chin--even though i can barely move, the view still widens.

edge

i sat the apple cider on the edge and with a smile absolutely insisted that you take it. the topic was harsh but warm in the end, and we got through.

flecks of color bumps on the windshield grab my attention, and the music is so, so loud. we wiggle in our seats in a silly, no-regret way. dancing with you always brightens me. i'll probably never ever say no when you ask to go out for ice cream. i don't even care that i romanticize most every little moment.

half

"room for cream, please," you half whisper and i stop fumbling for the lid and we talk briefly about poetry, 'cause i'm leafing through some you mention taking a class i say we should together because strangers always seem less threatening

snot dripped out his nose and we all shrieked, running away. he would throw his hands up and growl as we ran under the wooden structures. i think we were really sort of scared. i really do.

i'll give, give, give and find the nearness of reaching out.

bars

such a mystery, the way you nonchalantly asked me to that bar. your roommate joked about coke being available--2010 vintage on tap. i was 20 and if you only knew me. i was so uncomfortable. shifting, bumping your knee, declining.

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writing since 2011 · 64 entries · 55 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means roberta showed up.

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on this day 15 years ago

roberta wrote about secretary
“because i was afraid of being at a 9-5 desk job, wasting away and maybe then getting married and having a kid and building a fence and then cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. i can only see the progressi…”

the words roberta reaches for

remembernowsometimesfinallymomenttruthloveeyesdonenightsatclassfacewaitinghalfcare