Dear Mr. Bukowski,

I found what I loved the most in this world,
and I let it **** me,
destroy me,
devour me...

...now what?

If Insanity's doing something again and again
expecting different results every time
then lock me up, dear, for I'm afraid that I've been
insane all along, trying to make you mine

but I see now where the mistake was hidden
I've simply been out of my mind

Take back your records
I'm moving out west
need to fill up this hole in my chest
Take back these pictures
you left in my head
in my bed
but no copies to hold in my hands
as my memory alters
the state of what was
and what is
but honestly, I'd rather forget
and my height fell
too short
now you make me feel small
all
i'm left with are stories to tell

Take back the skin that you left in my clothes
'cause I don't want nobody to know
Take back the song that you sang in your sleep
'cause I don't think
that you even know what it means
and your heart is a piston
I'm pulleys and weights
you're an engine
and
I'm easily moved by your hands
but I ran this machine
for you
my dearest friend
in the end
I'll be with you in dreams

Take back your records
I'm moving out west
I was wrong
I was you all along

My love for you is the universe loving itself

I remove all human qualities and emotions

All thoughts and feelings

And I am left with infinite energy and love

and I give it to myself and I give it to you

hoping that one day it will return to me

in whatever way I need it

exactly when I need it

for my faith in these beliefs

is thought that becomes feeling

which I know is pure and eternal and perfect.

everything is as it should be.

I've been looking for you
you were lost from me quite some time ago now
but I think I found you today
in that moment
after you've just stopped the water running
from the hottest shower you could tolerate
and your skin is bright red
and you pull back the curtain
to a room filled with steam
because you forgot to turn on the fan
and you've forgotten to set out a towel
and the cold of the air starts to settle in
and you glance over at the mirror
all fogged up
but you can see the traces of the past in it
(you see, mirrors don't easily forget)
and you can't make out your own reflection in it
(you see, mirrors don't easily forgive)
and you stand there exposed
as the brume floats all around you
and the haze begins to settle
ahh yes...there you are...
I've been looking for you.