Check Mate?

Every sentence you speak
is like a line I wrote
twenty years ago
when someone asked me
what the perfect man
would say.

Your words move
through me like a tidal wave,
knocking me out
with the ebb and flow
of their syllables.

But what you say
is not the same
as what you do.

Anyone can talk
a good game.
I should know -
I do it too.

So what now?

The words have run out
and it's your move.

Connection

In your eyes
I am everything
I ever wanted to be.

In your arms,
the world falls away
and it's just you and me.

Alone
I wait for you.
I've been waiting
for you
for so long.

Otis Redding
couldn't capture
the possibility
any better in a song.

But I just keep waiting.

Beginnings

Hand to hand,
You hold me close,
Kissing me slowly,
Please don't let go.

I want more;
How about you?
I can't tell
If you want me too.

I say no
But I want to say yes.
I've never been here
and my mind's a mess.

I want to call
Send a bunch of texts;
But if I put it all out there,
What's left?

So I wait and I wonder,
and I leave it to hope.
Maybe you're the one
Who won't let go.

A Declaration

You want my hand
to help you up
and save you,
but I'm in the deep end
drowning too.

What am I supposed
to do now
when you keep
pushing me down?

You are quick-set concrete
on my feet
creeping up my ankles,
my knees,
my thighs,
my elbows,
my neck,
my eyes
until I disappear.

There is no time
for fear.

Sink or swim,
this is not where I end
and you begin.

This is war.

What You Meant To Me Never Meant Anything To You

I used to look at you
and just see your lips,
think of how they felt
so long ago during that kiss
where I swear you felt
something more
than a bulge in your pants
for me.

But that was my fantasy -
the one that I held onto
like a string in the dark,
hoping it would lead me
to safety
to you
to anywhere but here.

I followed that string
right into a wall
where you told me
you felt nothing,
nothing at all for me
then
now
ever.

Now what do I do
with all of this rope?

I can't go back.
I can't go forward.

The last bit of hope
has been fractured
beyond repair.

The fantasy has dissipated
into thin air
like it was nothing,
like I was nothing.

Maybe I was.
Maybe that kiss was just a kiss.

I can't change the past.
I can't make you
see
want
love
ache for me
like I have for you
since I was fifteen.

I can't do anything
but let go
and hope
there is life
after you.

The Anneslee Poems: Hand Prints

You slip your hand from mine,

leaving your hand print

behind

seared into my skin.

I never want to wash

where we touched

again –

just walk around,

lost in love

and the feeling

of where you have been

on me.

You slip your hand from my face,

leaving your hand print

of hate

burning my skin.

I cannot wash you away,

the pain sticks to my

skin –

no matter how hard I scrub

your wound lingers,

the stain imprinted

with your five fingers

I cannot get rid of.

The memory of fear

you leave on me

scars my heart

like botched surgery.

It ruins the love

that lived on my skin;

how changed I am

one hand print

to the next.

Deficient

The whitecoats say
I am deficient
in sunshine
and iron,
the things
that brighten
and strengthen
from within.

If they only knew
all the ways
I am deficient.

My heart
has withered
into a raisin
in my chest.

There is no love,
no happiness,
no abstract feeling
here.

Just a sad memory
of what was.