Just so you know,
when I start answering in one-word sentences,
I am sad again.
It's probably not your fault,
but even if it is,
I will blame myself.

Just so you know,
if I pretend to be sick
because I want to go home,
it's because I'm not ready to fall apart in front of you;
performance anxiety.

I don't know if I loved you,
or if I loved being in love.
Maybe my ego hurt more than my heart,
cause I feel like for you I wasn't enough.
I don't know if I miss your fingers on my skin,
or only being so sweetly touched.
Perhaps you weren't the one,
but just one within much.
I don't know if I was happy with you,
or just glad to be in someone's heart.
It might not be what love was supposed to be,
but in fact, simply a false start.

It's sad because I can't talk to you about love
Instead we talk about stupid films,
The ones we will never watch together 
We talk about stories,
But not ours, never 
You look at me while I look away
And it *****
Because all I wanted was to tell you 
How cute your smile is
How the weight of your stare affects me 
And all I want is to hold your hand
But now, as I think of you 
I choose to be silent 
Silence is okay 
Silence is louder

The days of innocence
for so long our only truth
we come into this world
so imperfect, yet, so innocent
though our innocence is fleeting
with every passing day
until
noting but imperfection
is left
becoming wholly
what we are

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.