**These Little Disturbances

She would not have married so young,

if she had not chosen an

addiction of sugar over

cigarettes and cheap wine. She would

have mothered less children and more

sonnets, if her heart had listened to

her genius IQ. She would have

laughed–without hesitation or

that tingle in her spine–if it

were not for the deadpan way you

ripped her heart out and that smile that

kept more secrets than it told. She

would have given anything to

climb inside those capable arms,

muscles you were not hitting the

gym for. She might have tossed a more

casual smile your way, might have

shrugged off the electricity,

ignored the way the room seemed to

heat up when you entered, if she

had had less coffee that morning,

or swerved in the wrong direction

and ended it all, if she had

stopped to paint her nails instead of

checking her email. She could have

had a million dollars and the

keys to a souped up SUV,

if she had not misplaced the game

piece from that McDonald’s all

those years ago. She would have had

less regrets, if she had majored

in accounting and attended

a better school with a meal plan

and acceptable residence

life. She contemplates these minor

disturbances, little flaps of

a distant moth’s wings, rippling the

surface of a pond thousands of

years before its descendant lit

on her nose, that summer day when

she boarded a plane and kissed her

mother goodbye, on her way to

a teenage version of freedom.

She might have saved the world, instead

she pens poetry–pensively,

persuasively, passionately–

and corrects grammar for listless

coeds. She has been speedily

dismissed, stealthily discovered,

and poorly drawn; she stretches out

in a bed meant for two and cries

tears you do not deserve. It is

two in the morning on Tuesday.

2 thoughts on “**These Little Disturbances

  1. I enjoy how you pack the heartbreak and regrets all into a story in this poem. So much raw energy and emotion. I look forward to reading your others.

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