thoughts bulleted
in my brain, ricocheting,
creative side to practical side,
lustful half to hateful half.
sleep? yeah, right.

i got up, located cleanser
and sponge, scrubbed
the bathroom,
washed the dishes,
waxed the kitchen floor.

wrote a four- page
letter to my sister,
told her i was in love.
with a girl.
i think i asked
for her forgiveness.

wrote a poem, and epic, tinged
with dark humor,
decided to give it to my mom
because this was all her fault.
somehow.

went to the bathroom,
considered my ground stomach,
but the thought of food made me want to heave.
settled for a beer. That went down fine,
so I had another.
and another.

but do they know how to craft fiction?
do they know how to spin
lies?
his eyes swear forever,
flatter with vows of only me.
but are they empty
promises?
i stare into his eyes, as
into a crystal ball, but
i cannot find forever,
only
movies of yesterday,
a sketchbook of today,
dreams of a shared
tomorrow.
his eyes whisper secrets.
but are they truths or fairy tales?
i wonder if even he
knows.

i am so depressed
i can’t breathe.

i lightly trace your lips with my finger,
then intertwine mine with yours,
and ask
how long it’s been since i touched you that way.

you can’t remember.

has no meaning
when you’re living in the
moment. i wasn’t ready
for that moment to end.