you weren't
                      anything to me
         worth
                  
                  the time it took
                  to type these
                  words

are you afraid to fall like
I am
I do
I see in electric
and stars spinning
inside the quietest black
that you
can't see
can't imagine
them inside
this light-infested
smoke-fluorescent sky
so come with me outside our maze
of Jenga blocks and chipping paint and tar
outside where
concrete crumbles
crickets chirp
and only airplanes come our way
roaring overhead
like lions without teeth
not
falling
flying
away home
with nothing but
white tails in their wake
wispy whiskers
leading back to
Boston beans and harborside
where we let the water lick our toes
(they told us not to but we didn't listen)
and thought
about falling
and living
and seeing stars
for the first time
since the end

sun on my shoulders
ice in my feet I think I'm
ready for anything
ready for everything except
today

she says "I'm hungry"
and we ladle out a bowl
of soup precisely two ladles
no more no less
lurching over the counter
to reach her hands and
after a quick scowl she
walks
                   away
and you scoff but we know
she's hungry for
more
than day old chicken broth and
wrinkled carrots and
empty promises

anyone can see
her eyes are
hungry
for change

I hope you find me inside notes
you thought you burned up
weeks and weeks ago when
you decided to forget about
everything you used to Believe
about us and life and
what it's like drinking
coffee naked between the sheets
laughing at Alarms going off
in someone else's life
because we're young and cold
and oh so Privileged with
nothing to lose except
phone numbers and dignity
And nothing about us really
mattered
but the little
corner of my Mind
where your name used to sit
hopes that sometimes
my name crosses
Yours.

I asked you to
                                       Look at me
But now
                                       I’m afraid
I think it’s better
                                       For us

                         If you go

I pity your daughter
And all the little girls
Whose listening ears are
Steeping in the poison
Creeping out of her pores
Like the festering mold
That comes when good things die
Without the sun

I pity your daughter
For the things you never
Taught her or maybe you
Said them but you were too
Busy praising her lack
Of skill to make her see

That in this new free world
Her hatred will have no
Place because we aren’t quite
Perfect but we try and
Her eyes that only see
Skin and race will not serve
Her well if she leaves the
Backwoods and opens her
Mouth in all its wrongness

My sister’s beauty and
My best friend’s wit are lost
In her ignorance and
I pity your daughter
For the world and the life
And the magnificence
Of a song that she will
Not be able to hear

It’s a shame.