who do I blame for you?

who do I blame for you?

for the words that were
SCREAMED at me
when I was ten minutes
late

for that guy you slept
with when we were
on a break

for making love in the
shower every single
morning

for cracking me to pieces
when you had to move away
and binding them together
when you somehow got
to stay

for loving me when no one
else had the courage to
pull me out of the gutter

for breaking that promise
and every other one you made

for letting me find out your
little secrets on my own

for crumbling every time
I kissed that spot on your
neck

for holding my life in
your hands and ignoring
everything that could
make it perfect

who do I blame you for?

me

— GB

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let go

how come you’re in my head
after all this time you should
be long gone

I wish the ECT had erased you
and I could turn around
without you
all over my senses

I can’t just take a break
from you with your fist
wrapped around my brain

you are a constant that
can not be washed away

we chose to be together
(maybe one before the other)
now I am trying to un-choose
you but you keep….
being there

so
if you can find it in yourself
to untether from your end
I’ll be able to let go
of you

— GB

why am I so freaked out?

gulls screech outside the window,
cracked to let the sea breeze in,
I roll over and my puppy licks my
nose, pulling the blanket over my
head, I search for a few more
moments of sleep, stretch….

WAIT!!!

I don’t have a puppy!
I don’t live by the ocean!
This isn’t my blanket!
This isn’t my bed!

But…

you’re here
you are laying right next to me
with the sheet conveniently covering
you seem so peaceful

why am I so freaked out?

— GB

Who is “you” ?

Who is “you” ?

I think about “you” all the time but I never wondered about who “you” really were until my ride home today.  To be more exact, I wondered who the conglomerate “you” was.  You see, every time I write about “you” I can see you like you were standing right in front of me.  I see everything about you.  I see your smile, your eyes, I see your blond (or is it brunette, or auburn) hair…. and then I start to get confused.  Who is “you”?

“You” is someone from my life, past, present or future.  You have been a major, minor, medium part of my life.  I have loved you and hated you, spent time with you or just dated you.  There are innumerable ways that  we have been involved, each and every one of them a part of me.  So, let me start again.  Every time I write about “you”, I am writing about an individual.  I have feelings and thoughts and memories of you.  Each word I write means something special to me as does each and every one of you.  Thank “you” for having been, or being, part of me.

kitchen color?

our separate beings
have become one

pasts have been
united, memories
a singularity

there has never
been a you
without a me

nor will there
ever be a me
without a you

perceptions
entwined,
emotions merged

thoughts wrapped
together with a
shiny little bow

our wants, desires,
ambitions and hopes
only occur inside
both heads at once

now that we have
irrevocably bonded
one life to the other…

what color should we
paint the kitchen?

— GB