Cynically optimistic

Cynically optimistic

I catch myself smiling and glance over my shoulder

happiness a strange taste on my tongue

that gives me more anxiety than just having anxiety

nothing good follows an Icarus high

I coax myself back to earth

and self-soothe

remembering it will pass eventually

what goes up must come down

I’ve been sexed and the sun is out

something bad is bound to happen

---

PANTONE 11-4201 Cloud dancer

I sit crosslegged and tell him about every single one of my feelings I’ve ever had

holding them up like paint swatches so he can see the gradients

it surprises me each time he keeps coming back

and I wonder if he knows that showing up is optional

---

My knee-jerk reaction

was that he was trying to screw me over

when in fact he was just trying to screw me

something that I very much enjoy

I never used to assume the worst

hungover

from giving the benefit of the doubt

jaded, I grip the past

and see only myself

in the rearview mirror

the gatekeeper

to all the could-have-been’s

and why did I spend so much time

living any other way

when I could have been

laughing

while cooking dinner

his jokes rarely funny

his attention

delectable

---

He climbs on top of me

just to lay there

and tell me about his day

I can’t breath under his weight

but the couple breaths I manage

are two too many

I’d rather suffocate in his eyes

become him

by osmosis

---

Insatiable

how is the world so effortlessly cool

and I’m over here

counting the seconds

till I can put my hand in his again

letting enough time pass

since I last grabbed it

so I seem less needy

than I actually am

sometimes he leaves

and takes my goodbye kiss with him

mi beso? I ask. my kiss?

(he’s still in training)

obediently, he returns

and I’m in shock

how could he have forgotten

the best part of the day?

sometimes he crosses the street

and reaches his hand behind him

If I hadn’t been looking I’d have missed it

but I’m always looking

I slide my palm in

satisfied

for a total of three seconds