POEM.

Checkmate

The doorbell wakes me up... 

I didn't know you were coming over.

The clock in the corner reads 1:23

and I cringe at the chronological order

that messes with my head.

I'm not the kind of person

to leave you on the doorstep, 

but I know you would 

run over me 

with freight train force,

so I lay the tracks and let you enter.

It know it would've been easier to sip

coffee in silence and ignore

the whistle of that metal engine

whipping past us 

stirring up our old memories 

but our relationship was never easy.

When the coffee’s done brewing 

I offer you hazelnut cream

but I quickly become aware

that all you've poured into your cup

is a few splashes of sarcasm

and a hint of sickly sweet remarks.

You take a gulp and prop 

yourself up on the kitchen counter

diagonally mocking me

like a chess piece

waiting to make a move.

(The patterned tiles don't help the illusion)

I lean back and look away

pretending that

I'm not falling to pieces.

But I was put back together 

with a glue-stick after all

and everyone knows those never do. 

My mind is telling me 

to derail the train,

to leave the room,

to scream until I'm speechless

but the truth is

I don't want to.

You cross the board with that charm

that always got to me.

(our coffee has gone cold)

The clock in the corner reads 1:55.

Checkmate.