I need you, I don’t need you

I need you, I don’t need you.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry


Just words



I need you, I don’t need you
Damn if you do, damn if you don’t
Perfect beautiful girl came to me in the midnight hour. Eyes of hazel green, robust and young body demanding my attention. I knew the ending before the beginning.  She was wildflowers free in heart and a crashing sea in the need of the love. She wanted everything and wanted nothing. I was just a place to rest, till her heart languished new kiss and embrace.

We shared cigarettes, the vodka and juice and the midnight dance. She hypnotized me with sweet words and make me wish for false redemption. The redemption of believing our words whispered in the chaos of passion and sweet kiss.  Were promises made to be obeys.

Longs nights led to late afternoon during the cold days of January. We played lovers and for a second. We were the lucky ones in the agony of love for a time. I watched her gain strength and her eyes becoming wild and uncontrolled. I knew she was a wild storm ready to run. I didn’t hold her too tightly. I learn a long time ago. Wild birds cannot be caged-up. If you cage-up a wild and free spirit. They will die.

Rumors came to me. My midnight guest was roaming again. I drank the vodka and juice and I told myself. I knew. Damn if you do, damn if your don’t.

I wrote her a poem and I gave the poem to her in the early Spring.

Dance with me

In the name of love.
Love saved me.
Love is not owned.
Love is the kindest gift.
Sometime love is forever and
sometime love is chaos and wish.
Both sweet and needed. Both painful and wonderful.
I love you Jen and I know.
I was the lucky one.
I’m not jealous of your new journey.
I understand the need of new kiss and embrace.
Please dance with me again and please don’t forget me.

Love don’t die easy. Many cigarettes, the vodka and juice and the need of separation is felt.
Hard to know who escaped. Jen wanted everything and I wanted her. Two people running toward different locations. Today the poet write words that still cut deep. Old Poet smiled and whispered to the morning sun.

Damn if you do. Damn if you don’t.
John Castellenas/Coyote