Kindergarten Cubbies


Kindergarten Cubbies

You are the restlessness in my laugh
the ever insatiable sweet-tooth that drives me mad
you are the guilty smile in my conscience
and yes you still strike me, strike me as
the man that will never fall to his knees in love
and beg to be smothered by me

me, drowning for breath
but still gasping for water
just so I can fall back under
into my self-made trap
called your love

your love, will it ever be paired with mine
or will I travel this stretched out world searching
for your odds to match my ends 
convincing you this tied up box of matches
won't singe the corners of your heart

your heart has her hands traced on it like a
six-year-old’s outline of his foot on kindergarten cubbies
yet I struggle, buried in your arms
trying so desperately to look past
her pristinely manicured french tips

hoping someday she will read this poem
and wonder if my arms would be better suited
for a fickle heart like yours.



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