Non-Significant Others

Inspired by K.L.

Part 1.

She was the book on the top shelf that I couldn’t reach until I grew up.

Her chapters were a mystery and they were filled with untold truths.

I imagined how her binding would feel

And what her words would sound like.

All I could see was her cover and that’s all I needed to fall in love with her story.

She was Sunday morning breakfast on the porch with the kids.

She was long talks about life and the things that we did.

The very essence of her soul could be seen from the way she would smile.

And it took a while.

It took a while for me to understand

that maybe this wasn’t in God’s plan.

Maybe her story isn’t meant to be taken down from that shelf.

And only exists for you to imagine how she felt.

To imagine what she would be like.

Because in this library of false hopes and untold stories,

There are many people who want to read the books that they cannot reach.

Because those are usually the best ones.

 

Part 2.

Let’s stay here for a while.

In this place where your smile is all I can see

And everything I want to be

Can be manifested within you.

It’s true. My haikus

have been wrapped around the idea

Of turning blue

From not being able to breathe without you.

And hearing your laugh is like coming up for fresh air.

Fair warning to the souls that cross her path

For she is everything anyone could ever want to have.

And I ask myself, “is it worth it?”

To live in this circus

Where I’m jumping through hoops of fire

Trying not to get burned by the thing I desire

The most.

Her.

I mean, us.

 

Part 3.

This road is never ending.

Winding ridges with each turn bending

More than the last.

Rushing to pass

others in order to reach a destination that doesn’t even exist.

Trying to speed and twist

this one way into a two way street.

Wait.

Maybe I’m too close to the edge ,

but I don’t want to hit curbs.

It’s my anxiety and these damn nerves

tethered around my words and these jammed verbs.

There’s too much food on my plate

And I can’t think straight.

This Writer’s block is keeping me up late

To the point where I can’t even frustrate

God and pray for a new tray.

There’s been too many times I’ve asked for a new slate.

He’s probably looking down on me screaming

“It’s too late”

But Fate and that reality check

haven’t hit direct deposit yet

So my funds are running low.

No money to throw

In the collection bin

As I head to church to wash away my sins

From the weekend on College Ave.

See,

I was her umbrella in the rain

But as soon as the sun came

She switched into a new lane

Leaving me to find a new Dame

And I don’t understand how the truth came

so late in this equation.

I was blazing off of her mental

Getting too high from her thoughts

And got caught in the hot box.

But there’s no damn detox

To

Clear out a system full of this bullshit.

 

Part 4.

Sometimes I think I overreact,

But the fact

That I put aside my usual acts

Of masculinity

To see if she’s really feeling me, for me

Has my mental in shambles.

Because I gambled on her

When I should have invested in myself.

And it’s felt

With every “what if” that I place on that shelf.

I wonder,

If I remove her from that pedestal that I placed her on

Will it all end?

Will she still be everything I need and want

Or will she just be another

Non-significant other?

 

By Tevin J. Reese

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