****** affliction of a lack of affection companion
Hand and hand strolling greater than syrupy plunging
and even sometimes buddy shrugging over wooden noisemakers
We whistle with their metal strings
and through the pasta soft ones in our throats
but no nest colored mares seem to hear
our flamboyant feather calls for future fondling
So I scribe slight implied short letters
invites to drink joints and nature jaunts
All too well thought out
hoping your advanced technology cannot trace
the time I spent to type
The overanalysis of our psych: her and I’s
wondering why she doesn’t have an inkling
for a cute fall date where we attempt to bake apple pies
It’s all too contrived, I know
I’ll strive for delusion
Accept a useful interpretation for our chemical inflammation
and let sparks pass it by
Like itsy bitsy flies laying eggs in a wound
for stagnant water maggots
They’ll eat away the thought well
where all my cranial zaps seem to dwell.

each time i hear you
echoing somewhere deep
in the dark of my heart
it feels like a betrayal
a smile at first then freeze
feel memories slither
whisper pain into the peace
you never made decisions
to hurt me purposely
but i wonder if you heard me
in the hallway of your heart
opening doors to hidden things
you might not want to feel

was i an angel after
or before the ceiling shifted
and broken conversations
took up all our time

i know i never was much
but you are here still
echoing harshly
and i ask myself "when"
pin the pain down interrogate it
for an expiration date label it
box it up and say goodbye
to the demon i love deeply
even if love is inaccurate
and full of lies

and overanalysis decomposes
the conversations we have
watch memories rot
i open a message you sent
and let it fester
as if empty friendship
could silence the echoing
of the way i once felt

so every time i hear you
echo somewhere deep
i don't ask you when or why
or how your day was
or if i am still an angel hiding
my wings behind your heart

i let you echo til it dies
and pause to analyze
until the pain is purposeless
and i pay it no mind

Kiss after kiss in the shelter of your car,
We made the myth of us; or perhaps I thought
Too much about the possibility.
My want and hesitation and misbehavior,
And the tired, charming, slanted eyes
And the cheerful curl of your lip—
I reached for your heart, to tell it our story,
To find our passion strike like an echo in the night.

But I made a dumbshow of my affections,
Made little admissions—
Thought we were just
One another wishing to be one,
But only ever a pair determined by their hours
Mumbling blindly the summery meadows.
And maybe the wind beat down the flowers,
Or left us overblown in our infancy.

We could both have been
The whitest liars among the field of hot stars
That are always kept at a safe distance
And still would never have to gleam;
I would have kept you as long as I could,
A firefly in a glass jar, but the sweet fire
Would burn out before we ever spoke
The truth.

Maybe it was too nice to meet you, or maybe
You were too nice to me;
Maybe I should never have opened my heart’s chamber-door
And let you wander the vernissage of melancholy self-portraits
That were only worth a moment’s glance,
That are to me as hammer to glass when I conjure them
To squint at them, or peer, or look,
And can no longer look at them.

But you did not mind.
With bare effort, your arrows sank into my back
And my head into your chest.
You held me close to you, the way I should have been held,
The way a child might hold a dying parent,
The way a father holds his only son
As if to say "I love you"
Before he turns out the bedroom light
And walks away
To leave you to dream.