It hurts
but thats ok
its how you know you're still alive

My wife, a psychiatrist, sleeps
through my reading and writing in bed,
the half-whispered lines,
manuscripts piled between us,

but in the deep part of night
when her beeper sounds
she bolts awake to return the page
of a patient afraid he'll **** himself.

She sits in her robe in the kitchen,
listening to the anguished voice
on the phone. She becomes
the vessel that contains his fear,

someone he can trust to tell
things I would tell to a poem.

Maybe I’ll
Let a man take me on a date.
Maybe I’ll
Tell him to drive slow, just so I’d get home late.
And maybe I’ll, maybe I’ll give in to just one kiss,
On imperfect lips.
‘Cause nothing is perfect if,
I’m not by you.

Maybe I’ll
Admit to falling hard for you.
Maybe I’ll
Tell you that I know, the truth about you, too.
And maybe I’ll, maybe I’ll let go of getting caught,
In all of your distraught.
But nothing is perfect if,
I’m not by you.

Maybe I’ll, maybe I’ll, maybe I’ll
Get called right back to you.
And maybe I’ll, maybe I will sing
And keep to my heart true.
I need to run from you.

Maybe I’ll
Go back to a me that’s free.
Maybe I’ll
Tell myself to forget, the feeling of your arms around me.
And maybe I’ll, maybe I’ll move on.
Or maybe I won’t.
‘Cause nothing is perfect if,
I’m not by you.

Why are you here,
Haunting my mind?
Leave me spinning like a tornado,
As you hum your rhymes.

Memories flash back,
Unlike the phone which we were captured in.
Smiling holding each other,
Two on the bed, two in the closet, we all could have been kin.

My mind and my heart,
They fight to tie.
Neither can hope to win,
But the loser is always I.

Surfacing to my thoughts,
Like a beast rises from water.
She taunts me with sweet dreams,
Deceives like a daughter.  

Dreams of the future,
Nightmares of the past.
Still don't crush my hopes,
That might have you at last.

Questions fall from the sky,
All I can do scream.
The sky, the sky, is falling!
Chicken Little, I now know what you mean!  

Why can't you face me woman?
Tell me to my face,
That I am the worst of people,
Inform me of my disgrace!

When I see you,
I pretend not to give a ****.
Why should I even bother,
To show you who I am.

Plague plague, go away,
My mind does not enjoy your stay.
Spreads like fire,
Burns at a high rates.
I need to stop loving those who I should hate.

Cried a knitter (found **** on the beach),
"Look away, guys, I beg and beseech!
I'm a **** young *****
Who's not wearing a stitch,
And my knitting just ain't gonna reach!"

There is a quiet defeat within me
whenever I accept one of your apologies.