my true home rests in
the seat of my *heart

I

the alarm clock refuses to set itself
it tells me this at 4:05 in the morning


II

I’ve started combing my hair
trying to maintain some sense of maturity
after I shaved my beard I
was reminded of my boyish look


III

the mirror decides to show
the reverse of a reflection
it shows me everything I’m not


IV

I have a dream where you’re the star
and I’m the narrator
we exist in the same world
but never interact


V

I look at my college degree like it’s an old photograph
from a time period I never lived in
I’m still seeking employment


VI

I turn 25 and unwrap gifts
looking for plans and hopes
and whether or not they’re relevant


VII

sometimes I wonder what you’re doing
who you’re with and how
much happiness you have


VIII

I disappoint myself
rejecting expectation
and ignoring opportunity
shaped in the consistency of
social resonance
populated by unpredicatable girls
who may charm you away
or ***** the scabs you’re dreading to discover


IX

abandoned ditches come with welcome signs
and I can’t help but feel a little afraid
that my vision is cut in half


X

two halves of a poem
form together
feel the uneven edges out
and agree on acceptance


XI

hands unfold
and position themselves for
placement
for some tangible thing
to appear

I am living
My life
For me
I am connecting
With others
Who see me
For who I am
The insults
The nastiness
The bruises and scars
I bear
Show that I can survive