ive seen depression,
many times.
felt the knife,
watched my loves hold
it their hands.
told myself never to feel that way.
not supposed to see loves that way,
not supposed to see sweet boy that way.

felt depression.
felt the hurt in my hands.
truth:
not not want life,
just can't feel now.

being isn't helping.
it's an ache that ebbs and flows,
and now that you're gone,
it throbs and holds.

the good lord said to shy from the forbidden fruit,
but dear lord, i see no way.
i can only pray that you give me hope in the darkness,
that i may see the light,
my love for him is my only plight.
years beyond me and love beholds me,
he is a man who is not mine.
i shall not want what i cannot have,
but lord almighty he's buried my heart in the ground.

she smiled and said
"it's not the pain or the death that i'm afraid of:
it's what's left of this life."
she adjusts the watch on her left wrist to cover the scar.
"some moments lift us, and others crush us,
but what really counts are the ones in which
we feel everything and nothing at all."

mothers can be so wise.

all my loves are fictional,
those who do not exist
have captured my heart.

today i learned something
that i never wanted to know.
and now that i have,
i will never be the same.

if i were a word, i would be several (words that is).
i would first be callipygean, for its obscurity
and its meaning of rotund rumpage.
i would also be gymnophoria, although i would
pronounce said word with a silent g and sing
gymnophoric phrases to the world whilest
viewing the elderly through translucent lenses.

we stood with our faces inches from
the el screaming past.
lights from the tracks were flashing
and we held fast,
in this moment we realized that
the eyes of every person we'd
ever seen
meant something.
maybe not to us,
but to someone.
and that,
that is a powerful thing.