winetruth

[winetruth]

Restless Warfare

I realized then that I wanted your Tuesdays

The taste of you polished across my teeth

I wanted to smash your vases and pick your flowers and scream your name down city streets

I realized then that I must be in love with you.

Surely, this must be it.

The fine line between misery and acceptance and true, harsh apathy.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

To Count the Cost

And yet this,

So simple and misunderstood,

Is what the poets wrote about

What God forbade,

What I’ll cling to forevermore.

The taste of saccharine dripping from old photographs

Memories of before, bleeding into now, hemorrhaging into the future

I didn’t understand the feelings then,

But I know now.

Time has always meant nothing, but you have always meant everything.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

I had a dream that you married her and I was there

And in between the vows and cake and dance and laughter,

I cried.

To be without you is to be without music

I hope she celebrates you like I once did.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

Untitled.

I want you to tell me you miss me

I want you to lie if you don��t

I want to forget this past year and find myself in cigar smoke on a downtown street at 1am

Where sidewalk prophets leisurely stroll and window shop

And the buskers don’t ask for recognition, only coin currency

I want to eat at that diner in Tennessee

I want you to be there too

And when the food gets cold and the coffee runs out,

I want to go home with you.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

- Je te laisserai des mots -

I hope when you leave, the lights are left on

I hope the windows are open, softly letting the breeze dance through my paperback novels

I hope the sun is out and I can hear the birds

I hope there is peace

When you leave, I hope there is closure

I hope that my hurts didn’t leave a mark too large in your memory to cover the love that was felt

I hope the dances are remembered slightly more than the fights

When you leave, I hope you know that I understand why

And I hope that you leave the door cracked behind you.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

Audrey Tautou on the set of Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (2001)

[winetruth]

- I had never loved truly until I had loved fully -

it is enough for me, anyway

to share a space, a room, an existence with you

however fleeting it may be

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

dad.

And I am like you.

For all of the ways I hated as a child

And all of the ways I craved.

My words are pointed and angular, jagged enough to cut through bone

I am a liar for my own benefit

With a nose that curves and dips and plants itself gracelessly on my face

I’d live in seclusion if I could

Atop a great, big mountain

Surrounded by trees and bears and streams and nothing more but myself and God

I am mean too

I fight and I cry and I raise my voice but never yell

I isolate when I hurt and I throw small objects at the wall when I am mad, never big enough to do true damage though

I have a great and gruesome anger within me that is infatuated with heartbreak and melancholy

And I am nothing like you.

Not truly anyhow,

I hug my mother without bruising her cheekbones and I love my sister without rebuking her in apathy.

I have stood alone and I have stood proud and I have been honest and worked hard

And I have praised God in the darkness and have always had faith that there would be light again.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

|| When Death Comes ||

Death comes and she is vigilant

Scratching at the door like a cat in heat

The sound of nails and teeth and cries from mothers and fathers

Orchestras and funeral processions prelude her coming

Yet she is deaf to these sounds

Death comes and she is ravenous

She throws the grain and the wine across the room

She is here for flesh,

For the blood that has pulsed through the veins of generations

The same blood that flushes your cheeks and falls in rose petals to the ground

You hold up your wrists to show the wounds, and she scoffs

She is blind to your agony.

Relentless in her pursuit

Death comes and she is solemn

She wears white and cries in the doorway,

Apologetic for her reasoning, but persistent in her coming.

She throws daisies around your head and kisses you to sleep in that same way your lover once did.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

Jean-François Dalle Rive. Bords du Rhône au quai Jean-Moulin, Lyon

[winetruth]

-Love is a Dog From Hell-

There is nothing poetic about this pain.

Nothing beautiful where my bed parts itself open to be greeted by a kiss from my body

This is nothing short of a travesty

A melancholic ambition that I’ve had since childhood

I want to rip it out of me

To paint my walls in this pain

I bet it’d be a fine, garish red.

With scar tissue embroidered in the lining

I pick myself apart at night

Only to forget what “better” feels like

I forget what I feel like.

I forget everything until the sun remembers me

And when the light breathes itself into my bedroom,

I remember it all over again.

-a.a.

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[winetruth]

we existed in remarkable lighting

I know that feeling

Ive tasted that smile

The wine you’re drinking was once in my glass

And now I’m wading through waters

Tripping out of clubs trying to remember what I felt like before I knew you existed

Before I felt you in silent films and silver screens

Before romance came to life in technicolor and your record player

Love has become a stranger to me

A friendly wave given to remark it’s passing through

But I know that smile

I’ve feasted on those feelings

That wine you’re drinking was once in my glass.

-a.a.

[winetruth]

- for love or fire -

There was black coffee on the table along with

a note addressed to yourself that you wrote when you were drunk

Endless nights of crashing into furious love affairs and rewriting the tragic endings

To fit a mouth more suitable for a kiss goodnight rather than a bashful walk of shame

Still, I sat beside myself alone in the shadow of your bedroom

Wondering if we were made for love or fire

For fury or madness

Or for nothing at all.

-a.a.

[winetruth]

Purple Noon, 1960

[winetruth]

[winetruth]

And even though my heart was broken, I still believed in love

Just not with you

Not anymore.

[winetruth]

-The Sun Also Rises -

I’m not fragile, but I wanted to be for you.

To be delicate and soft

In all of my femininity and violent emotional outrages

I wanted to cultivate a new love language

Call it the rose petal revolution and tiptoe my way down city streets,

whispering poetry and kissing you against walls

All the while,

you would hold my dress in your hands and kiss my neck and I would call you lover

And when the sun would rise, we both would stay.

-a.a.