the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

After so many times of falling,
of getting back up and trying,
I fell down again today
and couldn't help but crying.
My face was pushed into the carpet,
I held back a stream of tears but
I couldn't stop it.
My arms were so sore,
and I cried tears of anger,
for looking in the mirror in horror,
and trying hard to stay clear.
Then I got so mad,
at my body and my past,
that I pressed back up, tears and all,
and did two more---fast.
I sat on my knees when I was finished,
I finally cried but I finally did it.

I thought I'd write something about breakups
But then I gave up

And that made me happier.