heartbreak and cigarettes

Author: heartbreakandcigarettes

  • New England Snow

    New England Snow

    You and I

    stayed up all night

    talking about nothing

    in the dim light of an old restaurant.

    Outside,

    your glasses fogged up

    in the snow

    and I felt your warm hand in those

    leather gloves on the small of my back

    grabbing for me as I almost slipped

    on the ice.

    And now you’re thousands of miles

    and thousands of text messages away from me.

    We tried to make it work,

    somehow long distance always wins the battle.

    Until next time

    I can see you in the New England snow

    with more walks around the Commons

    and dinners in dimly lit restaurants.

  • Crush

    Crush

    Maybe it’s how your hair

    falls across your forehead

    or how your eyes constantly change

    colors, my vision of you shifting

    along with it, you keep me excited

    as a new you unravels within every glance

    as you smirk at me, secretly taunting

    me for having a crush on you.

  • I’ll never forget.

    I’ll never forget.

    I’ll never forget

    our walks down

    empty city streets,

    grabbing each other’s hands,

    gripping so tightly.

    I’ll never forget

    talking all night

    about everything

    and nothing

    as we fell asleep

    to the sky changing colors.

    Even though it’s

    over and there’s

    no more

    “us,”

    I’ll never forget.

  • Together.

    Together.

    Fireflies on a summer night

    light up the black sky,

    as I feel you beside me.

    Warmth and electricity

    radiate from us, buzzing,

    and we laugh at the stars

    for conspiring our fate:

    Together.

  • Joshua Beckman, “[Lying in bed I think about you]”

    Joshua Beckman, “[Lying in bed I think about you]”

    Lying in bed I think about you,

    your ugly empty airless apartment

    and your eyes. It’s noon, and tired

    I look into the rest of the awake day

    incapable of even awe, just

    a presence of particle and wave,

    just that closed and deliberate

    human observance. Your thin fingers

    and the dissolution of all ability. Lay   

    open now to only me that white body,

    and I will, as the awkward butterfly,

    land quietly upon you. A grace and

    staying. A sight and ease. A spell

    entangled. A span. I am inside you.

    And so both projected, we are now

    part of a garden, that is part of a   

    landscape, that is part of a world

    that no one believes in.

    Joshua Beckman, “[Lying in bed I think about you]”

  • Friday nights.

    Friday nights.

    Friday nights

    are the best

    with you.

    Whiskey in hand

    by the fireside

    with nothing to

    do and nowhere

    to be except

    in each other’s

    arms.

    “Friday nights.” – sugar and sandalwood

  • Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII”

    Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII”

    I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   

    or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   

    I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   

    secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

    I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   

    the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   

    and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   

    from the earth lives dimly in my body.

    I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   

    I love you directly without problems or pride:

    I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

    except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   

    so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   

    so close that your eyes close with my dreams. 

    Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII”

  • Counting the stars.

    Counting the stars.

    The town lit up
    as the sky turned black
    and we walked down
    the boardwalk,
    hand in hand,
    counting the stars.

    “Counting the stars.” – sugar and sandalwood

  • Wildflowers.

    Wildflowers.

    The way the wildflowers
    sway back and forth
    in the summer breeze
    reminds me of your spirit;
    stay open and free.

    “Wildflowers” – sugar and sandalwood

  • The end of us.

    The end of us.

    I watched the rain
    streak down the glass
    of the windows.
    Thinking of the last time we spoke;
    I didn’t realize that would be
    the end of us.

    “The end of us” – sugar and sandalwood