so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

I wake as your  friend                                     You wake as my lover
I speak as your lover                                       You speak as my friend
I act as your possession                                   You are my possesion
I rebel as your cover                                        A means to an end
I hurt for your compassion                             You live for my acceptance
I injure for your respect                                  Though it's never been withheld
I confide for your emotion                              You crave my direction
I give and you collect                                      Never will you rebel

This is madness                                               This is Sparta
This is insanity                                                This is the price of exellence
I can't be everything for you                          I am your everything
You can't be everything for me                     I am magnificence
You treat everyone the same                         I am fair and righteous
As a friend, yet as a lover                              And yet you seek more
And it's a cruel, cruel game                          Dare you grow capricious
From your twisted love, no one recovers     You'll become one I abhor

I am done                                                       You are confused
(I am never done)                                          And I will not calm you
I am sick                                                        As I am amused
(But I'm not tired)                                         As I drop little clues  
I will run                                                        You'l­l never leave me
(I won't run)                                                  But I'll abandon you
Because I love you                                        You'll always need me
(A better word is 'desire')                             And I'll never need you

Let me go!                                                    My grip is vice-like
(But you're not holding me)                       I'm not ready to let you go
Bring me back!                                            If I lose you, 'my dear'
(But I never left)                                          I must find yet another 'beau'
Love me only!                                             And I've not the time to put effort
(But you love equally)                               In little minions like you
Push me away!                                          I've not a care to give for
(Or bridge this rift)                                    You insects I never knew

Please, disappear                                       I am your torture
One day you'll understand                      But I am your salvation
That the twisted way you love                 I am your executioner
Could coax death from any human        And I am your redemption
Please, disappear!                                     You'll wish me dead forever
Though I'll weep when you're gone        You'll wish me dead I know
I know sanity will return                          And you'll wish yourself deader
And I'll eventually move on.                    *When away I finally go.

and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it