Kindle (Soapbox for Tinder)

I finally pulled my chin up

after my neighbor told me

she loved walking by my house

because of all the flowers

and I responded with,

I only see the weeds

Thank god I only speak in truths

because half my thoughts lie to me

I should have known this spring

it was time to turn that corner

when instead of making bouquets,

I started frantically deadheading everything

How painful to explain

that sitting in the sadness of your passing

felt better than

resisting the world we all still live in

Shortly before you died, you told me

you were afraid you took my light away

I told you then

That light will never stop shining 

You were just burning so bright

it was hard to see.

I Sold the Altar

I sold the arbor,

the one we said

we would build together,

and bought a cheap piece of plastic

to grow the Kentucky Wisteria on

instead

I planted it just left of where

we were going to say our vows

I gave away your weed eater 

It was too heavy for me

And for nearly a year

I have been on my hands and knees

after every rain

pulling up the sorghum by hand

one by one

Maybe the clover will take over soon

I think I might die

if I decide to sell the gas mower

Not because it was yours

I just get sad

every time I lift it 

out of our little makeshift shed 

all by myself 

We used to lift it together 

I laughed so hard when I found 

those two brand new tool bags

in the attic

I kept the jigsaw

and paid the mortgage with the rest

Has enough time passed yet?

Can I sell this sadness

for twice as much as what I felt?

I used the money

from selling your car

to pay for eight new tattoos

and will keep getting 

permanent things 

on my body

that remind me of you

until I run out of room