You taste like my racing heart
That day
In that carriage
In that giant wheel
[it stopped at the top
just like you said]

I like to think that I've forgotten it
But that shirt still
Hangs in my closet
And things pressed against it
Too long
Seem to catch your scent

So much for all the
Promises you made me
You never did make me pizza
Or pancakes
You didn't take me fishing
You didn't take me on a date
And you refused to understand me

So now each day I'm working
Through those things that
Remind me of You
Today was boats and King Charles Cavalier Spaniels
[and those stupid cigars
you bought for new years]

Park benches too
Like the one I ate my lunch on
And like that one we carved our[selves] names in
That night, so many nights ago
Lucky it's winter
Or the beach would be next

And the cold
That seeps [seeps] through my
Warmest clothes
Digs at my resolve
[you never felt it
or so I felt]

I'm nearly there
I promise
And that's one I'll keep
Not like the one I
[pinky] promised you that
Last time

Because you don't deserve it
Or me
So no, I won't be
Calling you
Get your taste from my mouth
And your scent from my mind


This, I like to hope, will be my last poem dedicated to him. He has been my muse, my fire, and the reason for almost every single poem that I have ever written [with a few exceptions] as well as half of my stories. So I'm hoping that this is the end. For real. Although this is definitely not my best, I [cling to the] hope that this is it for new things about him. Theres still half a million unpublished works inspired by him, that may or may not make it up here, but I'm praying he doesnt inspire me to write more.

So thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me through the [wait for it]....

The Anthony Chronicles

[do you like that? i've been toying with it for a while now. but now you know his name. i prefer terms like 'that jerk' or 'that idiot', and other various vulgar alternatives, none of them appropriate for this timeslot] I've been considering condensing all of my pieces for him into one long story, so that people can chronicle us. But i wont be.

Review if you can be bothered, but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.

Until next time, dear readers,
I remain,