Search My Words
Justin Barisich

Freelancer. Satirist. Poet. Performer.

Subscribe to My Blog!

Enter your email address to get each new post.

Join 638 other subscribers

Instagram has returned invalid data.

Follow Me!

Follow me on Twitter
30/30 Poetry Challenge (2015) Creative Writing Poetry Uncategorized

Day 25 – My 26th / Valentine’s Day

By on April 27, 2015
(Photo Credit: Flickr / Laraújo)

(Photo Credit: Flickr / Laraújo)

You called for the occasion,
as a close friend,
as just another someone wishing
me happiness, as though I am
capable of willing it into existence.

We alluded to the past few years
as ex-lovers, giggling as we recalled
the dressing, the drinking,
the undressing, the teasing
the pulling, the biting.
Turned quiet after realizing
it’s now all just imagining.

My body remembered it better,
felt it more than I could have ever thought it –
drooped in sadness with your absence,
the cold of the February chill
without a second center to warm
this brokenness, help melt it back
into one filled whole.

When we hung up, I was glad
to have held you once again,
even if only your voice this time,
to have heard it spilling out your mouth
and bouncing off your chest
the way my empty head once did.


In that same night of unlover’s lament,
when hugged only by the darkness,
I dreamt of him –
the man you’d always wished I’d become,
but would never ask me to be.

I could see you two in our former bed –
him, a little taller, a little thinner,
with long, wild hair he’d left untamed
just for you, tattoos of song lyrics
burned into his pores, decorating his chest
and arms, bearing his soul for you, for all.
His skin was more tanned, and as he
thrusted inside you – granted admission
after swooning you with his frontman’s voice –
I noticed the look of longing
melt from your face, the pleasure-pain
of his angle and girth, the shape of your body
as it rocked and resisted his – holding and posing
like never before, because I’d never had the courage
or the confidence to demand it.

I could see your smile
of release, of relief,
as I felt the shotgun pangs
of jealousy rip through my body,
extract my heart in crude fashion,
and remind it that,
even on my birthday,
life has never liked to play fair.


Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: