Andy Cry

After 30 years of marriage
it became apparent to me
I never once saw my Andy
get down on his knees
I never saw him break down
or whisper “WHY ME?”
Always with dry eyes
he’d hold and comfort me

Not when the economy crashed in 06′
and he had to sell his papa’s farm
Not when his mama died in a car crash
and never got to hold his child
Not when he lost the use of one arm
and we were barely getting by
Not even when the war came around
and we had to pack up and leave town

Even soldiers in the army
I bet their wives have seen them cry
So i had to ask my Andy ‘why?’
Why have i never seen you cry?
He said as long as the sun has light
the earth will not stay dark
And as long as we both have life
i have nothing to cry about

So when i woke up one morning
and saw my Andy on his knees
Raining tears in their buckets
and whispering “WHY ME?”
I knew it could be only one thing
that could bring my Andy down
When i saw my Andy cry
that’s when i knew that i had died



I am back home from school
My phone rings
I contemplate not picking
I haven’t given anyone my number recently
Too curious so I click and listen
Hey girl it’s me
Can you be more specific
It’s him. Him from high school
Him from four years ago
Him from three heartbreaks ago
I’m polite I’m even almost excited
I finally get the closure I didn’t before
I spend all day arguing and fighting and crying and getting beaten
I speak to him an hour every night before sleeping
Then wake up and do it all over again
I trusted him but not completely
We only had bad history
He was great distraction
From the real in my life
From the hurt and the ache and the strength it takes to get through the day
I’m not here today
My heart is in the sky piloting my dreams
Keeping me safe from my past and present
It became too much to ignore
The banging on the doors
All the outside noise
Attacking my inside world
He wasn’t enough distraction
He was only ever good for one thing
He was only ever able to hurt me
Feeling something is better than nothing
Now that I’m hurting I know I’m not numb
I can feel anything if I want to
To an old friend I’m grateful
If for nothing else, that I’m writing


He pulled over suddenly
She looked to him for an explanation
When she did, she saw him looking lustily at her. His eyes burned with pure need.
He held her face in his large strong yet soft palm
He was quick and gentle and hungry
Hungry for her. she felt her heart had traveled to her tongue
Oh how hungry he was and he drank of her
He gave and he took and it was marvelous.
He pulled away and left her even more dazed and confused. The look on her face must have made her seem like a complete fool as she struggled to put herself together
He moved one large thumb gently over her lips. “you have such beautiful lips, I don’t know why you have to go and color them up”
He wiped his lips on his handkerchief and sped back into the road.

the bedroom walls

It was finished finally after seven years her father’s house was built.
She refused to let the painters paint her room, thousands of miles away at college she put her foot down and that was that
She was going to paint her room herself exactly how she wanted. She couldn’t possibly have one plain colour, she wanted it to have edge, character, she wanted it to be personal.
She was excited about painting it with her best friend. he also went to a different continent for school but he had to come home for holidays.
She was the writer, the poet, he was the artist. She had never seen anything he drew that she didn’t fall in love with. He was designing sneakers in school.
He understood her perfectly, he was the only one that she would start to say ‘ oh yeah well the egg is on your face…’ And he would know instantly she was talking about the princess and the frog movie.
He would help her take her mind and display it on her walls, he would make her bedroom everything she hadn’t even known she wanted it to be.
They would have so much fun doing it together, like in the movies getting paint all over themselves though she wasn’t looking forward to washing paint out of her hair
He would draw her a big moon that they would paint into the centre of her ceiling that you could barely see but glowed in the dark
They would carve their initials on her headboard, he would strategically place his gum somewhere he thought she would never find it. And when they were done they’d sit on the floor with carpentry dust and paint fumes replacing the oxygen and eat each others favourite food.
Even when he wasn’t there everytime she entered her room there would be so much of him there. his ideas, imagination, memories of the best times they had working together. She would feel authentic and that would make her feel safe.
She was graduating and the family was moving in in the summer.
He didn’t come home for the holiday. He went on about his new girlfriend that was taking him camping and back packing in Europe.
With child like excitement he filled her in on his adventures and she pretended to be happy for him.
Happy that he was having such a great time without her. Happy that she wasn’t there to experience his joy with him.
She never had romantic thoughts towards him but she found herself hating the new girl.
The girl that was holding his hand and making him laugh and introducing him to new and exciting things.
He didn’t come home for Christmas that year… Or the year after
She could never quite explain or even understand why she hadn’t painted her bedroom. She slept in it every night hardly noticing the grey plastering on the walls.
She never felt the need to ask her boyfriend to paint it with her. She had never seen him draw and she really didn’t think he’d find paint in his hair very funny.
She didn’t have the motivation to do it alone so it stayed that way. Months after months year after year, she barely noticed when her parents hired a painter to paint it lavender.
She didn’t bother to think ‘what color was on the wall before?’
She didn’t have the time to take notice of such things anymore.

Ex excuse me miss

Ex excuse me miss
I don’t know what he’s told you about me
I know this will come off as jealousy
But its mostly Curiosity

Does he open doors for you?
Does he take you out on dates?
Does he show you off and then take you to his place?
Does he invite his friends over so they can put a face to your name?
Does he Kiss you in that special way?
All night does he play your favourite games?
Does he bring you breakfast in a tray?
Does he hang with you the whole day?

I don’t know what he’s told you about me
Maybe I’m the one he calls a bitch
Or the one that’s totally crazy
Probably the one he wishes you’ll never meet

I’m the one he never opened doors for
And he only kept indoors
I’m the one his friends never heard of
And was never there when he woke up
At the end i saw his colours
When i dared to ask for more

Are you his number one?
Are you the reason he doesn’t text me anymore?
If not, you’ll soon be like me
Ignored, lonely and wondering
How he changed or you only now see
That there was never a true relationship

If you are his everything
Then it pains me to say i did not win
He is not heartless and empty
Unwilling or commitment-fobic
To you i must admit
He cares for you but never did for me