Poems for a Rainy Day

Marijuana and cheap beer.

Marijuana smell is permanent on your lips,

along with the beer and cigarettes. 

The scent will never fully leave my nose. 

I sleep peacefully,

awaiting the creak of the door I know will happen. 

You just can't stay away. 

You don't want me fully, or all the time.

But you want me sometimes, when you're in the mood. 

I awake with a sad smile when I feel your hands on my hips,

the lights are turned on-

and so are you.

I feel your smile on my neck,

and your whisper in my ear.

What am I supposed to do? 

It's not fair to me,

you can't only have me when you want me. 

I place my hand on your cheek,

and give you a sad grimace. 

"No",

is all I say as I roll over. 

"Sorry",

is all you say as you slowly retreat to the futon.

"I know",

is how I respond. 

The bulge in your pants tells me you are sorry.

You're sorry that you fucked up because now you don't get the chance to hold me.

You're not actually sorry that you hurt me. 

I know. 

The painful aura in the room is a direct reflection of my heart.

But it's okay,

I know it will all be okay. 

At some point. 

But tonight you lay in the bed next to mine,

and I can't help the clench of my heart when you call me Sarah instead of calling me baby.

I miss the lies you fed me. 

I miss the fake whatever that we had. 

I miss you. 

-Sarah Klobuchar