After A Breakup.

I'm afraid to admit
I feel sort of out of it.
I'm just too tired I think
To invest the time
To step off the brink
I can't continue to lie
And say I'm fine
And turn around
And die every night.
Every night
A little bit of me dies.
Hi,
Do you care at all?
Hi,
Did you ever?
Hi,
It's been a while,
Want to catch up over coffee?
Hi,
Did you know you've damaged me?
Hi.
How are you?
I miss you.
I wish I could kiss you.
I wish I could forget you.
I wish I could relive you.
I wish I could be without you.
I wish I was whole without you.
I want to be whole again.

Seven Minutes in Heaven.

She said,
"Lay down and
let's look at the stars and
wonder
about all the places
there are,"
I almost told her,
"I'd rather look at you
because
I wonder where you are and
where you've been and
what's under your skin and
how can I get there--
Those deep blue
tide pools
where crustaceans
find heaven
where doe eyed teens
count to seven:
The number of minutes
I want to spend in
space with you."

What it's like.

My heart sings poetry,
but my brain can't motivate me
to get dressed
hand and pen pressed
to paper fated
to wait with bated
breath.
I'm so tired
of all the liars
singing in my head.
If I could be free of them--
these ravenous thoughts--
I count to ten,
look again,
I see them still:
Those dark sentient
beasts
that only I can
kill.