I realized something.
Tenderness gets you nowhere in the face of apathy.
Apathy is ruling us.
It is ruling me in my heart and in its grotesque reflections.
I cower at it and forget myself and whimper and say all the wrong things.
Hateful things, as my heart is on fire.
There is an anger in me, a blood red rage and then there is calm, cool, unaffected apathy.
It does not rear its head like the bull of my anger, but sinks like a stone.
Makes cool my bones.
I would rather spit fire, I’d rather let it wreck my lungs.
I wish I could scream it out or fight it out or **** it out or maybe just forget it exists.
But it remains frozen ice throughout me that weighs me to the ground.
The magnet that pulls me down down down.
Maybe this is the doomed, inevitable thing I’m feeling, the fear that my apathy will never melt away.
That I’ll never see the brighter days.
The stars in me keep choosing the wrong things and i’m lost in a galaxy of apathy.
Tenderness would melt me.

A case for apathy-- maybe I would get some sleep.

the man at the gas station is a poet
he cannot afford the 10K it costs
to become known, published.

as human beings we are unraveling.

i woke up this morning bathed in
blue darkness
a tear spilled down my cheek.

as creatures of Earth we are unraveling.

my dear friend sits next to me
and i wish i could fossilize our time together
time keeps splitting open.

a cracked goede-- i am cracking,
unraveling.

Patti sings of ***** of jade dropping
the sky falling
i get her face tattooed on my bicep.

Permanence and the Great Unraveling
flirt and dance,
twirling and challenging one another.

my love
eternal and momentary.

It's a mistake to love someone
Unless you like despair
Far wiser would you be to just
Pretend that you don't care

It's a mistake to need someone
With all your soul but then
It's a mistake I make I fear
Again and again and again

Hard to talk about things when you have nobody to talk to.
Hard to have a good day when there's nowhere to go and nothing to do.
Hard to feel love when you end up hurting or pushing away everyone who's ever cared about you.
Being trapped inside this compassionless life has been eating my soul.
I'm complacent and lazy and I feel so alone.
It's cold it's cold it's cold.
But I guess I can feel a little less alone knowing my bones have something in common with the weather.
Writing letters to everyone who's bed I've ever slept in saying thank you for the tenderness.
*** is just a vacation from the emptiness.
Having fun seems mythical from where I stand today.
It's an art being this much of a burden, no matter where I am, I'm in somebody's way/
Happiness is an art and I'm all out of paints