52 Cities Deep / And His Big Weep.


of THE chase-
the chase of all chases
the surrendering way,
you throw your hands up-

away from me.

i sway into the truth

you cover your ears
rejecting the news.

enough is enough

you chased my love
19 months

and when i say stop
you take it to heart.

The New York Post slides 
under my hotel room door
front page is your face-just for today
headline reads:
*bold font*
"the big star" with talent but in the end his pride ruins it all"
headline is:
"charming cliche of a man
chases a lovely woman 
catches her
tricks her
only to run away!
 after his tour extended past may.
(tour sales down despite  radio plays)

headline says:
" majority of charismatic men are all sad at night-
no matter how many fans they have!
the price of extroversion:
is pain!
the price of the lead role is:
and no one to call
when you feel like
like, for real this time"

the rise and fall of
whatever the hell that was
just late night calls and
static, so much static.

flash forward to you leaving
for a new pair of eyes

52 cities deep:
you will find a version of me,
In her.

A fever dream fantasy
you will seek

Flash forward to 2am
The south, about to enter REM

picture those haunted hallways 
where a woman's intuition
and her subconscious meet
(repeat repeat repeat)

I don't miss him because you can't miss a person who 
never really knew you
only the fantasy of you
that they crafted
based on what?
a cartoon?

i don't dream of him, ever.

i dream of heath ledger wearing a fisherman sweater on a pale beach
and the little mermaid when she gets her new feet.

9 cities later:
back to my replacement

Crystal ball says its a girl with a common middle name
a girl who is younger than me
with less sorrowing  in her eyes 
less words in her vocabulary
never left the Midwest
hasn't heard of Budapest 
you speak and she cheers
you ignore her and she
feels she's done something wrong
you're her sun
and she needs you now
to function
she's too young to know
that the cycle starts
with the chase
ends with the escape
the silence
the amnesia 
skip to 2 years later 
December in Ohio
"don't i know you from somewhere"
and he is honestly asking you this
because he is the sun
self appointed but
the sun

move on to the far east
its late spring
she's a college girl
less fight in her swing
less pain. fewer memories
fewer lives
fewer mistakes
maybe a girl who has a sister that's not dead
ans haunting her family
maybe her story is less heartbreak
less weeping
more singing
Wednesday night testimony girl
in a jean skirt
pretty face
big flirt

the winter you flew to Europe 
the winter you stopped calling your father
middle of nowhere on a train headed to Paris
you see her
and she is close to resembling me
just a little bit.

you open your mouth
to begin the game
the cycle is spinning
and she laughs in your face
she walks
and the daily mail
has given you a nickname now
one that you hate
headline says:
"you're looking weak"
they interview a nutritionist who speculates on your shrinking frame
"hollow eyes
lack of smile
pale complexion"   

headline reads:
"ALIVE but mostly dead"

And the women sitting outside of a cafe the morning of the headlines
you refuse to read from today
feel sorry for you.
feel happy they have boyfriends who love them 
in the purest way.
love without a timeline, without the seduction of fame

that's the thing about good women
we were born wearing our crowns
wisdom is our best friend
discernment is engraved in the bones of our bodies
our skin is made of prophetic cells
our hearts are homes for the holy spirit
and the love for babies and pale oceans

you write me to tell me
"i miss you. I'm lonely"
i read this and feel nothing.

i reply with the sunglass emoji.

you cursing the day we began
is how that conversation came to an end.

sometimes, i miss the wolves that used to chase me
but for the most part, I don't.

i know they will be back
for more heartbreak
a sad woman is worth more than a million happy ones
the currency of pain: to feel anything in a country so numb
is a delicacy
just a gram of her sadness
will cost you a piece of your soul but my god
it's worth it a thousand time over
like crack cocaine
they beg me for romance
knowing the high won’t stay
the comedown is coming
the sun is rising with the throbbing craving
for more
addicted to this second hand ache
still born stories of hope
laced in hate
a future we can’t hold
we can barley create
in the corners of the town that neither of us claim
curating heartbreak
calling it fate.