burning orbital
rebirth of the death
I yearn for
but most assuredly fear

no i'm not

i feel alive.

my old stomping ground
a violent playground
where kids emulate birds
the pecking order
last one to the sandbox
goes to prison
blood, sweat and knuckle sprains
truimph, loss and growing pains
but i am not the sum of it
nor it the sum of me
i have lived other lives
so why do i identify with it so strongly

my flower blew away
the wind took her
one petal at a time
i could hear each one
as they were torn off
a ripping sound
a violent separation
of the heart
till there were two left...
she loves me...
she loves me not.

some still haven't let go
grasping at me with tendrils
like the wisps of smoke
you find hanging in the air
ethereal, drifting
but vulnerable
i've been shattered
and swept up
been put back together
and thrown back up
but i always made it back
maybe not entirely the same
perhaps altered
but not deranged
haggared and rough around the edges
for sure, but still together
its true i learned a lot
worked my way through
something i fought
either way, i am still here
wiser in ways
torn in others
jaded in some
but stronger by far

loneliness seems to me like a pet
that i carry with me or me with it
on a leash made of dull  and achy sinew
joy stretched to a thin strip of flesh
i pull on nightly with my left
if i want to feel like its someone else
fulfillment found in the back of a magazine
or with my internet "date"
we have met before many times
solitude broken by walks
where i am greeted by the many strangers
whom glimpse at me so impersonally
with glib smiles and vacant eyes
I march, doll drums beating
to the sound of  nothingness
on a landscape hazy and clouded over
a life on an escalator
that brings me up then leaves me down
rushing from one box and back to the other
always held fast by my leash
and always,  hoping to find you
my beam of light
in this dark corner
to share with you the unfettered joy
i think i would feel with you