When we both are in our splintered state of mind
I will glue fragments of our minds into a
Ceramic vessel
Perfected by the patchwork,
We'll be a chaotic disarray of
Terra cotta and melancholic thoughts.
Something so whimsical,
Only we could fathom it's substance.

watching a movie in class
and having boys crowded around your desk playing with your hair
and acting like it annoys you
but it doesn’t

window shopping
with a friend
pointing out wishes
making inside jokes

going to Mcdonalds with your grandmother
eating fries like British delicacies
chatting

those days on the bus
listening to music
the sun and bus
yellow
zooming along the streets

lying awake at night
sleeping over
hands being held over the abyss between two beds
swapping secrets
like fisherman trading fish

drawing
and liking it
creating something

and

tasting
something sweet

Mostly I ache for the times
late in the evening when
we've resolved to mush on
top of each other- stroking
fingers and lingering
forehead kisses- and your
words come in soft tides
on my neck. I can't fathom
being with anyone else.

I am not a poet.
I have read many poems.
Beautiful, touching,
Clever and meaningful.

I don't use lovely analogies
Or powerful descriptors.
I write lists.
Clear, concise ideas.

I don't leave space
For the reader's interpretations.
No open wandering paths
For them to meander along.

Everything is clearly defined.
With passages precisely laid out
To direst the reader to
EXACTLY what is being said.

Sometimes when a poem wafts into my head
It is more poetic.
But then as I put pent to paper
Only the skeleton remains.

Even this poem
Had a better feel in my head.
Yet another thing to feel
Inadequate about.

I am not trying to wallow
In self-pity (yet again).
I am just not a poet.
I would like to know what I am.

I held you softly
as you slept
I held you gently
as you wept
I held you tightly
as you screamed
I stroked your hair
as you dreamed
I wiped the tears
that would not dry
I cried the tears
you would not cry
I took the demons
in your head
and made them
Mine instead
I need to be
by your side
don’t turn me away
I am not your Pride
I am not your Pity
I am not your Sorrow
I am here Today
I am your Tomorrow

Look in the mirror. Let us both look.
Here is my naked body.
Apparently you like it,
I have no reason to.
Who bound us, me and my body?
Why must I die
together with it?
I have the right to know where the borderline  
between us is drawn.
Where am I, I, I myself.

Belly, am I in the belly? In the intestines?  
In the hollow of the ***? In a toe?
Apparently in the brain. I do not see it.
Take my brain out of my skull. I have the right  
to see myself. Don’t laugh.
That’s macabre, you say.

It’s not me who made
my body.
I wear the used rags of my family,  
an alien brain, fruit of chance, hair  
after my grandmother, the nose
glued together from a few dead noses.  
What do I have in common with all that?  
What do I have in common with you, who like  
my knee, what is my knee to me?

Surely
I would have chosen a different model.

I will leave both of you here,
my knee and you.
Don’t make a wry face, I will leave you all my body  
to play with.
And I will go.
There is no place for me here,
in this blind darkness waiting for
corruption.
I will run out, I will race
away from myself.
I will look for myself  
running
like crazy
till my last breath.

One must hurry
before death comes. For by then  
like a dog ****** by its chain
I will have to return
into this stridently suffering body.  
To go through the last
most strident ceremony of the body.

Defeated by the body,
slowly annihilated because of the body

I will become kidney failure
or the gangrene of the large intestine.  
And I will expire in shame.

And the universe will expire with me,  
reduced as it is
to a kidney failure
and the gangrene of the large intestine.

As I walk on the downtown street
I stop to hear this stranger play
He strums the guitar
And his lyrics ******* away
You can hear his pain in every word
I’m hearing his life story standing on this curb
He’s a homeless man just trying to survive through music
I can’t believe I’m hearing such a masterpiece of acoustics
I sit there and listen to the entire song
I hand him a few dollars and walk on
I’ll never forget hearing such a wonderful song