gone are the days of laying
with my head resting on the pillow
as thoughts evaporate with the ease
of turning the faucet to wash
away the lingering toothpaste
from the porcelain sink.

here are the days of dreaming
of past wishes for the new is too complicated
like the attempts to but together the new
desk with instructions in chinese as
two-hundred pieces are scattered on the floor;
like the nightmares that crawl into the ear
with the vehemence charge, seeping
into the desires with the black gelatin
infecting, with the cinching way of
mold spreading vastly to the too ripe
fruit sitting in the corner of the refrigerator,
forgotten.

my last poem was from five months ago
and i actually typed 'years'
because maybe deep down that's what it felt like

no tears have been shed but
the rain seems to do all the crying.
i said 'someday i'll take a break'
and i fear someday will never come
because i keep searching
and i constantly end up
discontented.

the cursor mocks me and the books block me.

You pace.
Watching our every move,
The graceful arcs of the confident
Contrasting almost poetically with the
Furious frenzied twitches of the
Eternally ******.

The synchronised swimming of academics,
Marks of ten to the best of our
Talented dancers, recalling each
Jump, step, clap with personal flourish.
The strings are well hidden.

You spurn our dance, fixated by motorised,
Radio synchronised monotony.
"Stop writing, your time is up."

I feel like you sometimes
as I flit about from day to day
cautiously touching ground
in search of a safe place to land
In search of the kind people
whose motives are gentle
and whose words can be trusted
“Come closer, I won’t hurt you”
Some of the most frightening
words in the English language
And the naive ones who
still believe in love
get run over
or batted about by a hungry cat
and left to decompose throughout
the remaining weeks of summer

ever sit alongside someone you love
whose face is gaunt and body
is emaciated because her organs
are eating her own flesh
until there is nothing left to
draw upon and her
heart will stop
her lungs will cease
and she smiles at you
and says
my kids are going to miss me
do you still wear a size two?
are you seeing anyone?
you seem happy, i am glad
and you hold her hand
and take a picture
because any minute
she could be gone
and you keep crying
but you have work to do
and old people die everyday
but she is something special
to you
we are soul sisters
i tell her
and she agrees

i.
You realize life's real currency
isn't money, which can be spent on me,
but time, which can be spent with me.

ii.
The others saw you as a beggar,
but it is me who has begged for you to stay.

iii.
Tie a ribbon around my finger,
it all means just the same.

Scientists divide my body
into systems,
cardiovascular,
circulatory,
respiratory,
but when you are in my presence,
it all becomes nervous.

i.

You say 
I look like a twig

as if I should be ashamed

to be compared to a strong tree.



ii.

You hold my gelatin arm,

letting it hang, 
laughing
that I am all skin and bones,

but aren't you, too?



iii.

You think I should come
with a caution label
explaining how to properly hold something

as breakable and fragile as glass. 



iv.

You slink your arm around my waist,
dancing your fingertips over my protruding hip bones,

confessing it feels like it doesn't belong.

Why isn't it beautiful
a part of my vessel isn't
 hidden?



v.

You are aghast when my ribcage

slightly shows, stretching my masked skin.

Why are you horrified
to see the very structure

protecting the ***** I love you with?



vi.

Twice the portions,
 twice
the helping.
 Will I always have to prove
I am anything, but 
empty?



vii.

Last time I checked,

you were a skeleton, too.