Put your troubles into something else.
Don't use that razor blade again.
Or the blunt scalpel you keep.
Or even that bent kitchen knife.

Put your troubles  into something else.
Leave the eyeliner on the shelf.
Leave the rubbers in the box.
Leave the earrings on the stand.

Put your troubles into something else.
How about the doodles you draw.
Or the stories that flow from your pen.
Even the paintings done at dawn.

Put your troubles into something else.
Maybe, even, me. I won't look at them.
I will gently untangle every one.
Trim them until they are all gone.

Put your troubles into something else.
Not a sealed chest.
Not a closed box.
Not a corked bottle.

Put your troubles into something else.
Let your mind be free.
Let your heart be free.
Let me be free.

I. Smoking
I can pull the feeling
Of my lungs burning
And throat sizzling
Into my mind and feel it
Even when it's not happening
And it's half yearning and half
Peaceful knowledge that
This is the most cowardly way to **** myself
And it's perfect for me

II. Stealing
It's not a thrill or
Anything like that
It's more like I'm entitled
To have these things I can't buy
Because I'm so sad and surely
Life owes me this
When it has failed me in everything else

III. ***
I get the most flack for the way
I love people with my body
I enjoy the intimate union
Of two bodies and souls
Feeling each other so closely
And forever tangling their two spirits
Together