i write about what i know because
ive got nothing better to say
and i try to fit the length of a thought
onto a single page
because i just hate it when
ive got an entire poem or whatever
almost finished,
only a few words left,
and  they just wont fit

and plus who am i to waste
a slip of paper
on a phrase or two
that doesnt make sense alone
and that (who
am i kidding)
no one is going to read anyway?

unless there is someone
out there
that has always wanted to know
about what its like
to watch a person

transform from
water to ice crystals
in a matter of minutes

or how it feels to hate your
father and then weep at the thought
and then hate yourself for weeping

to blindly step with
bare feet
on a baby bird
and feel its naked skull crumble beneath
your heel      

to dance alone, throwing yourself
into frenzied spirals, smashing
against the walls and breaking
apart like a tired old star
to collapse then
letting the light drain from you

letting the               light
drain
from you
and reaching up to touch it with quiet hands...