Scoop

I sat down to lunch and got
scooped out from the inside:
a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
that we will never serve,
to the children we will never have together,
leaves me with a bad taste
in my mouth and an empty stomach.

~September 21, 2010

Verb

We discussed the power of verbs
in the poetry we liked,
and I felt their thrust and pull
between our words.
Meaning infused words infused life.
I haven't yet pulled free
of your thrust in my life,
and now each verb takes
on a different meaning.
It's hard to swallow
or pin things down,
cuddling doesn't come close
and I don't want to come
close.

~September 20, 2010

Clear

If I think about myself enough,
I'll think myself right
out of existence.
Like a star if you try
to look at it straight on -
it disappears.
Let your focus relax.
There you are.
Pure white, sparkling,
clear as day.

~May 10, 2010

Apple

How private is too private?
So much of me lives
on the outside with you
my thoughts and theories
and emotions where you
can touch them.
I know how to keep that
balance, giving you
all my best while
acknowledging my faults
and weaknesses.
But some things,
kept from you,
make me feel like an
apple with spots
on the inside,
going bad where you
can't see,
privately.

~February 23, 2010

My Head

I don't want to live in this world
where you don't want me
and shun me to be with your friends
where you ignore me in a pointed
statement about my weaknesses
and where a phone call asking
for your help
would make you hate me.
I don't want to live here.
Please, help me
move out of my head.

~February 23, 2010

Bitter

There is a bitterness in me
that I feed with black milk,
ink,
coffee brewed too strong.
This is not the strength
that I want.
Funny that we are turned
inside out of one another;
under my pale skin perhaps
you will glimpse the shifting
darkness,
but out of your warm brown pores
pours a golden light.
Maybe that is why
I have craved you, strong skin
much safer than mine,
not just for the hue
apparent, but the light
of you within.

~February 1, 2010

Drain

Running down the drain
of a long day,
my hands grasp for something
filling, refilling,
but cannot hold on to
what is offered.
Instead they find my hair
and begin to pull it out.

~February 23, 2010