Lost hours, sacred memories,
Balancing on safety pins, paper clips,
broken cups, sips of tea.
Taped carefully,
to the insides of you and me.

I smelled the smoke.
I saw the fire.
And yet I thought
'Let's play'

Every person has scars.
Emotional baggage.
Broken.

Life is a jungle of thorns.
Looking out to destroy you, if you let it.
Broken.

Every person is interesting.
Fascinating, beautiful.
Broken.

I am afraid to be seen.
Afraid to be loved.
Broken.

They say you accept the love you think you deserve.
What does that even mean?
Broken.

People distract themselves. Look for perfect loves.
Look for someone to mend them.
Broken.

In the end you understand.
Only you can fix yourself.
Broken.

Even if your soul still aches,
your amazing spirit will love you, heal you, fix you.
If you think you deserve it.
And you do.
So you no longer are
*Broken.

Someday our lonely eyes will meet
our fingers will entwine
and there within that moment
my heart will not be mine.

I'll give it to you gladly
to linger with your own 
your smile will be my waking breath
your loving arms my home.

I'll kiss you with each sunrise
rest my head with yours at dusk
and hold you through the ages
'till we crumble into dust.

I hold this dream with tender hands
in hope that it comes true
and wait here for the someday
when I belong to you.

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

I took a chance
you let me fall.
I let you in
you destroyed my walls.
I loved you once
you wore me thin.
You won my heart,
but lost the game.

I can only imagine what it feels like to be loved by you.
What your lips feel like pressed against mine.
To feel my hand intertwined with yours,
When our eyes meet,  
And my heart stops,
Until next time, *my love