When you’re gone,
will it hit me like a defensive line
as I stop a few yards short of my life’s goals
and turn my head to say, “Look what I did!”
only to realize you’re no longer in the stands?
I didn’t know it as a kid,
but I’d eat chicken and broccoli
until it lost all taste
until it lost all meaning
if it meant you could rub my back
one more time,
sing me one more song before bed.
And by that trillionth plate,
lemon zest and garlic
the only thing seeping from my pores
maybe I’d have long since forgotten why it is I eat,
maybe my taste buds would be screaming for something else
as they gleet between my teeth and down my shirt
like squirt gun genocide.
The sound of your name
will one day whoosh
the breeze from my chest
when I remember that
as far as getting in touch with you is concerned
my phone would be more use
as a coin
at the bottom of a wishing well.
Did you teach me how to love,
because I’m afraid I may have missed a lecture.
I’d like to start again if you don’t mind,
Hi, my name is and all.
I think this time I’d be faster, smarter,
make you more proud, knowing what it is that’s expected of me.
‘Become who you are,
but try your hardest to have been a good guy all along.’
I don’t say, “Look what I did!” enough.
I’m waiting for the big one,
for the actual touchdown
and not just another 1st down,
but it occurs to me
that to you,
maybe everything I do is a touchdown.
Thank you for hating the girls I loved,
who didn’t love me back
What you said was,
you’ll meet the right one
but what you meant was
you’ll break hearts too,
and it’s hard,
and one day when your heart’s been broken so many times
you’re missing big chunks
you’ll stumble across a girl who has the chunks you’re missing
who needs the pieces you have
and you’ll finally be whole together.
When you’re gone,
will I remember what it was that made you so perfect?
Or will it be the things my mind leaves out
that save me from the hurt?
And what about the part of me
you take with you?
Perhaps one day
my heart still singing the Amazing Grace from you’re gone,
I’ll set my daughter on my knee,
and look into her eyes
and say, “There you are.
Look. Look at what I did...”