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I went back to read your words
But they aren’t there
They aren’t to be found
The website says
Nothing here
There’s nothing there
Was there ever?
If I can’t read the words
I can’t be sure I ever knew you
You always knew I was of flightly, flimsy flesh
So why take the words from me
Why is there nothing there?
That’s the hardest part
Picking through the rubble to find scraps of once-yellow note pad paper written and abruptly, rudely, ended:
Toilet paper
Apples
Erasers
8 batteries
Trash bags
Birthday card for —
The hardest heart catches itself before it does what it made to do: lie or die. (And flower and a cake for –)
Again with the ending. Before the card, there was snow. Glowing snow but the ice was better. You’d sprayed painted it gold and silver and a tie dye of the other primary colors , which ran and pooled at our feet. The flakes and shards died a hued death.
Still the ending.standing at the top of a great mound that once was not a welcome to the White Ones.
They welcome you. The hardest part, you accept.
Tonight I break my silence. This is my open letter to you.
You will always be remembered as a vapor
the heat-wet rising to fog the mirrors,
blurring distinction:
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw you, too.
But that’s not true
I saw a mirage and what I wanted to see
Last I looked I saw nothing ajar, nothing amiss.
Sentimentality is lost on the broken-hearted.
You fog me no more.
I went out with this guy once who ended up blocking me from his phone. He was very tall and good looking and ended up saying he didn’t know how to block people from his phone so it was weird that I was blocked. I just said whatev and let it go because the distance was too far anyway but he was a nice guy basically (aside from blocking me). Anyway, we’ve remained the closest of FB friends. Or at least we’re Facebook friends. Which means we acknowledge each other to some degree. This is a guy who went through a nasty divorce and he said it would be hard for him to get married again. He moved to NW Arkansas in June and had a world wind romance and next thing I know, his Facebook status is Married. I’m happy for him and terribly jealous that I myself have not had a world wind romance that resulted in a manic-induced marriage to someone I barely knew. I mean, it sounds like something that would happen to me but hasn’t. Yet. I have hope, dear readers.
The Boy and I are officially just friends now. Platonic friends. Which I think means we will never see each other again. Truthfully, I’m okay with it.
I don’t know why I feel optimistic but dammit, I feel sure I’m going to find me a good man and be in a happy relationship soon.
An environmentalist
college professor that he was
told me
It’s called climate change, not global warming
Some places get colder
I’m getting colder
My seas are rising
and my summers are shortening
The end of summer came a month earlier each year, 2008-2010
August -> July -> June
2008 -> 2009 -> 2010
Next year, there might not be a summer at all
[begin transcript]
me: How’s work tonight?
him: pretty slow
him: what u doing up
[it’s 2:02 am on a Sunday]
me: Good question. I keep waking up.
me: Are we gonna still see each other or…?
him: Yah I have to you about that but don’t want to do it over text
me: ok, not a conversation I’m looking forward to but I get what you’re saying.
him: sorry I’ve been so distant
me: I’m good at reading the writing on the wall. Let’s just leave it at that for now.
[end transcript]
[end relationship]
it was a small statement
words with a gentle punch
I’ll take the dogs out, he said
on a Sunday morning
leaving me to rest
he knew I needed to rest
on a Sunday morning
• his thoughts weren’t worth my penny, I decided (much too late)
• if you want to keep him, don’t let him take you to Hot Springs
• I’m needy
• I’m weak
• I’m bull-headed stubborn
• if you want to get rid of him, talk about your own problems
• if you like him, you can sit through any story no matter how many times you’ve heard it or how vulgar and unbecoming it is
• if you like him, he will not like you
• if you agree that neither of you will play games, accept that you’re both playing that game
• I’m accommodating
• I’m sweet
• I’m a good listener
• weed is never a good conversation starter
• weed is an awkward topic of conversation if you’re not into weed
• telling me you tried to sell weed to an undercover cop and that as a result, you think you were “framed” even though you admit to doing it is cause for concern and perhaps a reasonable moment to challenge him on his “it’s not my fault” mentality
• sushi is okay
• shorties don’t do it for me
• kawai (spelling?) means cute in Japanese
• Republicans scare me
• tall men are unreliable
• tall men are reliable
• I don’t like body odor
• I like sexy texts but most times, sexy texts ruin a relationship
• I don’t like to hear about maps in the Middle Ages
• I have a birthmark on my face
• I have freckles
• not everyone is gay-friendly
• straight guys can be insecure
• men are robots
• men are funny
• I fall in love with laughter
• I don’t like rice balls
• as it turns out, I like blue eyes after all
“you know what comes next,”
I say to him with a sad smile
it’s a smile I think he’ll come to know well
>>>>>>>
on my lips
a song from yesterday
words not quite audible
not quite decipherable
the melody doing the work
working the doing
working the words
slowly forming
on my lips
The punchline wasn’t the real punchline
Or at least it wasn’t funny
She wept.
Like most things
It’s what comes after the punchline that matters most
She wept.
For him.
Ramblings of a Medicated Lady: Words of Woe by Loria Taylor 
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