Lighting the candle at both ends
Watching the slow burn of the fuse
Waiting for the inevitable explosion
The one that blew our world apart
Leaving me seemingly lifeless
Hanging on by the ventricles of my heart
Shrapnel in every part of me
Attempting to inch my way
away from you
Without you noticing
Before you can stop me
With your empty promises
And never ending lies
That I fall for every time
Piecing myself together
And finding some solid ground
Learning how to move forward
From the destruction
in which I was starting to drown
Wondering
If we’re as toxic as everyone says
Or if upon introspection
We might be even worse
How do I sever these ties
Knowing that love is not enough
To save a sinking ship.

My love, if you die and I don't--,
let's not give grief an even greater field.
No expanse is greater than where we live.

Dust in the wheat, sand in the deserts,
time, wandering water, the vague wind
swept us like sailing seeds.
We might not have found one another in time.

This meadow where we find ourselves,
O little infinity! we give it back.
But Love, this love has not ended:

just as it never had a birth, it has
no death: it is like a long river,
only changing lands, and changing lips.

Better that every fiber crack
and fury make head,
blood drenching vivid
couch, carpet, floor
and the snake-figured almanac
vouching you are
a million green counties from here,

than to sit mute, twitching so
under prickling stars,
with stare, with curse
blackening the time
goodbyes were said, trains let go,
and I, great magnanimous fool, thus wrenched from
my one kingdom.

My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.

You remember my name.
You remember how it sounds when spoken aloud.
You remember how it looks when written in black ink.
You remember the face that goes with it.


I remember nothing of you.
No name, no sound, no face.
Some would call it a tragedy.
But I call it freedom.

Our hearts don't break
For lack of love.

Plenty of people do not love me,
And I lose no sleep.

Perhaps your heart breaks for those who do not love you.
But mine,
Mine,
Mine.
Breaks into pieces every time I realize that
Love is not enough.