Burning thy bridges—dost thou make you happy, my daughter?
When all is said and done, will you not be standing in a heaping pile
of ash and soot? Of the wreckage of a life once so well-lived;
I love you, my daughter—but I cannot stand by to see this:
The days since you
have been more than difficult.
I search for things to cloud my mind,
to maintain a dulling of the pain.
The suffering is drowning,
but the sense of self is ever-growing.
I will continue to live.
To love is an option.
When life has torn your gut out
and swallowed it whole,
A petite blonde gives her beau a lingering hug in the street;
she is leaving him and i can feel the bittersweetness of their parting.
An elder couple, hand-in-hand, wait to cross the avenue
I looked up at her, “I can dance.”
No kidding. Let's see.
“Don't you like the way I dance?
Darling I like everything you do.
If your cat stays at the sliding glass door, stares - oh she stares -
feeling like a slave when indoors
you might have on your hands, a yard cat for sure!
this is the beginning
this is the end.
Swamped and deranged
I'm librating betwixt
The cool and the unoriginal.
Someone help me out—
Tell me what's stale
Maybe I'll die when I'm twenty-five
And maybe you'll love me then.
If I die when I'm twenty-five
Will you be sure to tell me when