___at first I didn’t like being alone.
___________________a phobia of mine.
_but now after always being with people, I relish it.
the time pases slower when I’m alone but I like it that way.
______________possibly, i’m fine. because i know someone’s on
______________their way home.
my home.
_____I find myself smiling in thought. unknowingly.
I catch
_____myself, and consciously widen it.
__________________________I like this life.
While i can keep apologizing for being myself, I don’t see the point.
___the only people I need to impress, I already
have.
___________________I have to only care about myself,
because this is not the time.
_________________________I’m content with where I am.
_____________________________this is the perfect resting place, don’t you think?
____________________I’d prefer to stay, for I will never know
____________________where my potential was, would have been if I move on.
_______________I hate how the wind blows things around.
_________________________I can’t catch it?
__________________I do not like it.
___________________________I was talking about something else.
I like how only I can understand.
______________________I I I I I, enough for you?
______________________________________(don’t lose this)
___Today I am very happy with who I am, and for the first time,
___I like it.

July 5

It seems i always look away when the numbers pass, so that when
i look up the minutes have passed without my knowing.

Turning up the volume, thank god for deafness.

I lay down and rest my fingers on the volume. and vibrations escape
through where the two pieces fail to connect, transferring to my fingertip.
pulsing, it seems, with my my heart.

there is a time limit on sanity.

I’m looking, waiting for the time to pass, but, with my fixed stare, i become
bored. Soon my eyes shift towards the window. Outside the wind moves the limbs
of a tree back and forth, blocking and un-blocking the glare of the sun burning
on the metal parallel to my room.

tears are a temporary thing.

it’s a smile, yes. so under-appreciated. do you think i could
have held on tighter? embrace- it isn’t missed until too late, until it’s left.
it wasn’t sad at that time. but i walked away and realized it was forever.

six minutes past my limit.

first the faint searing on my nose, the bridge, closest to the
eyes. tinted windows so i can’t see her, but wave anyway. then a swelling in
my chest, to the right of my heart. uncontrollable, these emotions are. step
up and sit down. forever goodbye. as i dwell more on these thoughts, i feel
my waist condense, my stomach swirl as tears start to cling to my eyelashes.
i forgot to whisper ‘i love you too’. and my cheeks are now wet. stifiling,
so as not to be heard

Paths already dried, and yet i’m still crying. now running to
the corners of my mouth, down my neck because i am looking at the ceiling. my
skin feels odd because i didn’t bother to brush the tears away.

they remain saturated and absorbed.

i am spent.

it’s still churning inside of me, yet my body has no tears remaining.
i feel obliged. as if a tribute, i wish i could continue to make salty puddles
for her.

Breaking point.

July 4

all of a sudden, it’s as if my life were a movie. a montage of
photos. sitting next to her, i feel her heart pulsing through her skin. the
blood rushing through her veins pushes through her skin, which in turn flares
against mine. a sharp ember of life.

and pondering on this, my exposed chest flashes with heat, slowly
spreading, aching.

it feels like my whole rib cage is collapsing upon itself. my
inner structure has left. my world’s falling apart. from within. did she notice
my sudden movement to grab her hand, intwining my fingers with hers? it was
an involuntary reflex– reaching for comfort. last hours wasted while the new
day is crouched over the horizon, speckled with faded stars.

my skin is hot. Once again, from within. it’s difficult with the
air conditioner on, but not too hard under the circumstances. ignore it, i say
in my m ind.

these
unheard reprisals.

Always the unheard… contemplation.

Silence
is what always kills.

Summer 2002

you told me you loved me
a glow answering a glow
you said you would never forget
a touch answering a feel
the time we spent together
your lips answering mine
blurring what was real
and another grain of sand slipped through my fingertips
while i was waiting for you to return
but i remember our last words,
and through the broken promises and broken embraces,
there’s a glimmer of hope
of what was and what could be

i try to continue my life
with the knowledge that you’re lost to me
meloncholy smiles while brushing the tears
away; pretending they don’t exist;

turning the hourglass over
and i finger the lips you once kissed

you’ve folded me a million times,
take me apart and the creases
are still there…
just like the tears*

you’ve torn me around the edges,
just a matter of time before
I fall apart.

you’ve cut me to form the shape
you want and it doesn’t make
a difference how much tape I use,
im still your broken piece of paper.

you’re the only one that knows the truth,
i’d figured you would know me by now.

i’d hoped you understood
how my life has been,
what i’ve been through,
and what you do to me.

don’t listen to these words i say,
i’m just pretending to be in control.
i don’t mean it,
im just afraid.

been alone too long.

can you read my handwriting?
so illegable, even i can’t make out the words?

i sent a note to you,
sorry it’s not on pink
scented paper,
but it’s the truth.

take me back, and grab my hand.
Will you give me chocolate on Valentine’s day?
i’m confusing you, but that’s because
im trying to work out my life.

Who am i?

haven’t cried in so long,
but now the tears are coming down.
they’re falling on the paper,
kissing the ink because i can’t kiss you.

ink’s running now,
but i’m used to it,
that’s my life’s story
after all.

you know i just wannna
start on a clean piece of paper,
and forget my past.
haven’t kept enough memories to forget,
so i’ll just collapse on my bed
and hold my dolls.

they’re so perfect because
they can’t feel any pain.
i wish i could be like them,
cheeks unstained by tears.

shove the shoebox back under the bed,
forget about all of the old photographs
and throw the tissues away.

leave my broken home
and go back to sleep,
hopefully when i wake up,
i’ll be on a fresh sheet-

a piece of paper where i can forget
about the past chapters
and i’ll start writing again.-

i’ll sign my name at the bottom,
the only problem is if
i’ll remember who
the signature belongs to.

::::: for joe :::::