every morning since…

there’s a slight bump
i reach out to you
and the bed is empty
warm where you were
with a vague scent of
your perfume

i slumber on your side
i don’t want you to
return to cold sheets
i don’t sleep very
well when you’re
not in bed with me

sunrise is seconds
away and you have
not returned to join
me, where have you
gone?

this happens every
morning since…

glb /// “every morning since…”
originally published 02/09/2014

survive

when the copper stops buzzing in your brain
and the sweat pours down your neck
i will be there to hold you when the spasm begins

the application of pain is the measure
tolerance raises the bar for the next
it’s hard to tell where the victory lies
the strange attractors have done their damage

down deep, enveloped in gloom
cast by the only bulb in the cavernous hall
you prepare to put on your show,
daring to expose all in attendance
as patrons of the darkest art of all

you mime kindness
whisper intimacy
talk of hope
shriek out love

the cacophony deafens
voices drawn tight
refusing to admit
that the one thing they have in common…
(humanity)
is the hardest thing
to achieve

glb /// “survive”
originally published 03/01/2018

i thought

i thought you left,
but when i saw you
again it was like you
had never…

now i know
you were gone
before i ever
got there

being there was
your way of being
gone from some
other way of living

we were never
fully together,
the feelings
it felt like
we shared
were figments
and ghosts

the loss i felt
was nothing
compared
to the love we
never shared

why do i feel
i should
apologize?

glb /// “i thought”
originally published 03/03/2014

the river

she waded into the desert river
up to her ankles because she didn’t want to cause a ripple
up to her knees because the river was exciting and running so quickly
up to her waist because the river was cooling compared to the desert
up to her chest because she didn’t care what anyone said
over her head, she slipped on a rock and was never seen again

glb /// “the river”
originally published 02/12/2014

untitled #121

what do we do when
change goes the wrong way
and we cannot go back
to the place that once was

the door is shut
to the wants we used to want
we can no longer touch
the haves we used to have

moving forward
on broken desires
causes pains we never had
in places we never knew

in the essence of this experience
something new overtakes
something old we still crave
quickly enough to question
the existence of the past

only when acceptance
gives way to indulgence
does the knowledge of the past
coalesce

glb /// “untitled #121”
originally published 12/04/2013

metastasis

it metastasized to your lungs
more chemo, more radiation

it metastasized to your bones
more wasting, more weight shed

you looked sullen, you looked drawn
you looked resigned to your fate

treatments go on
seemingly without end

I imagined you were fighting
I imagined you were giving everything you had

it metastasized to your pancreas
nothings more to hang my hopes on

you gave up
I think I am starting to understand that

you metastasized to me

glb /// “metastasis”
originally published 04/28/2014

13 days

13 days to live or die

i chose the former,
the universe…
the latter

i do not know
the ferocity
of the fight,
only that it left
unbelievable
scars

it changed me
in ways i cannot
even begin to explain

for better
for worse
i am still here

for yes
for no
i answer your call
i answer your questions

i feel my longing
in the chasm of the night
until
the opaque gray morning
filters in
revealing your empty
side of the bed

i try not to react
to your endless absence,
dressing quickly
i slip into the
misty morning

i scribble your name
into the dew on my car
continually checking
over my shoulder
hoping you’ll catch me…

glb /// “13 days”
originally published 03/16/2019

ask me how i am

ask me how i am
look at my face
stare into my eyes
put your lips on mine
feel desire pulsing

ask me how i am
slip under the covers
wrap your arms
around my chest
put your palm over my heart
notice how quickly it beats
at your touch

ask me how i am
trace your finger
over my scar
feel the soft new skin
find out how close
the bone is to the surface

ask me how i am
wipe the tear from my cheek
when i realize
you aren’t real

ask me how i am

glb /// “ask me how i am”
originally published 10/31/2013