there are parts
of myself that
are still in pain

a white hot
thread pulled tight
through my spine

I speak to them,
sometimes

soothe them with
a kindness they have
never known

but they will
always be
fragments

of my soul

that are forever
untouched

I am simple
an idiot

like Dostoyevsky
described

straightforward
you cannot

understand me
I am outside

your scope
and scale

I do not want
from you or

to be you

I do not absorb
your threats

or insults
I am immune

to your world
I know

you want me
you know

I can’t be

I’ve been drawing circles,
The same ones
Over
And over –
I’ve been feeling sleepless
Night after
Night,
Hoping that I can work the courage
To talk to someone
And not feel so lonely –
But like I said –
I’ve been drawing circles.