Like a moth to a flame,
the closer to the light I go.
Now I'm close to the light.

Think about me everyday.
Shine on me some kind of way.

The girl eats me.
She eats my hands.
She starts with the fingers,
and she's quick to the wrist.

The girl beats me.
I can't point to my assailant.
I can't count the days.
She's still at large.

The girl eats me and eats me.
She eats my hands in four bites,
but it takes nine for my face.
She moves like a woodpecker.

The girl beats me and beats me.
I'm too embarrassed to say anything.
I tell my friends that I
fell down the stairs; so clumsy.

The girl eats me and eats me, again.
She chews her food very well.
I cry every time I think about
those teeth and that tongue.

The girl beats me and beats me, again.
Hey take it easy...
One of these days
your really gonna hurt me.

I acted so well I
tricked myself.
I blinked and I
missed myself.
I should give myself
more credit.
I should
live myself.
Instead of just with myself.

I got so angry I
kicked myself.
Lost my footing and
tripped myself.
I started lashing out
at others,
but somehow I
slipped myself.
I couldn't even
grip myself.

When I look back I
regret myself.
I really thought I could
reinvent myself.
Do you still think about my inventions?
Now that you mention it,
I forget myself.
I think I just like to
upset myself.

I reach out.
Like a blind man
grasping.
My cane
tapping.
I wish someone would
pat me
on the shoulder or
talk to me.
It would be nice if someone would
ask me a question or
walk with me.
I don't care who; it's not like I can
see your face
anyway.

I reach out.
Like a blind man
groping.
Hoping that this is a friend I'm
stroking.
I wish someone would
hold me
by the hand and
console me.
I would be nice if someone would
show me the way I should
be going.
I don't care who; it's not like I can
see your face
anyway.

To be honest I couldn't show them.
I didn't tell anyone about those poems.
I pushed them down.
Down into a notebook.
Down into a box marked "old stuff."
Down into a basement.
I tried to get away from it.

And when you would crawl your way to the
front of my mind,
I would push you down.
Down into my brain stem.
Down into my blood stream.
You clawed my heart and left deep marks,
but I remember I pushed you down.

How is it that you come back around?

I pushed you into my stomach. You made me want to *****.
But I pushed it all down.
I swallowed you down,
but you still came up in conversation.
"Guys, don't you know she's in a box in a basement?"
I had to push you into my bowels so you would get out.
But I remember I pushed you down.

And then that night in a fit of rage and
aggravation you hit me in the face,
and I pushed you down.
It might as well have been a cliff. It might as well
have been the deep abyss,
but it was just the ground.
Some nights I turn over and there you sleep.
I rub my eyes in disbelief because
I remember I pushed you down.

How is it that you still come back around?