I am nervous to know you,

though you’ve been mine,

longer than any love had the pleasure,

or misfortune.

I didn’t intend

to build a house on your head,

filled with my hardest days,

where the thought of you,

and our imaginary conversations,

hang happy,

seen by you,

for the very first time.

This is where I live.

This is where I lie,

that I know the one who has been mine.

I recite your coffee order,

as I paint myself into the women you like,

based only on throwaway thoughts,

that you thought I didn’t hear,

and a faded memory of your ex,

that I cannot recall without wine and rage.

This is where I hope you’ll be the way I imagined,

this is where I hope you’ll be the man you’ve never met,

this is where I’ll get all I’ve ever wanted,

until you knock on the door,

wearing the skin,

of the one who has been mine,

but you are a stranger.


Order “Stormy Weather” here

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Listen to”Past Preston” here

RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Are You Afraid?
Ladylike
Summer Of Love

RECENT BLOGS
Hello 2018, Goodbye Porn Watchers
Why I Hate Dating In The Modern World
A Letter To My Fifteen Year Old Self

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