green bean
don’t be so mean
just come clean
I know you want to be seen

hiding under the leaves
don’t be such a tease
your song has been sung
it’s time to please
my tongue

the peas are delicious
and perfectly sweet
they are my gardens
most delightful treat
pretty yellow flowers
and crunchy plump pods
vines swirling up
tendrils reaching for the gods
heavenly peas
fresh and new
I hope you don’t mind
I’m going to eat you

why didn’t you ever want more?
I don’t understand
is this really all you wanted?
really?
were you loving someone else?
was someone else loving you?
did I meet some obscure niche in your life?
these are rhetorical questions
a reflection of my bafflement
despite our storied past
I am not a disturbed person
I think you know this
maybe that’s how you know it never would have worked
I’m a healthy person
I won’t accept your half measures
you have whole measures, you do
that you choose not to share
somewhere inside you is a real thing
and I have loved it
every bit of you I have loved

but that real thing, you
maybe give him a chance too

I press my hand to my rib cage
feel my heart’s persistent throb
it seems so small and vulnerable
this tiny gentle creature
pressing softly against my fingers
each pulse almost a question
is this right?
should I be here?
was this an invitation?
meant for me?
yet it continues
steady and uncertain
faithful and dumb
altruistic and alone
thank you little heart
you efforts are not forgotten

if you give up
and walk away

know this

                        it will never

                                                    be

             ok

it’s always tempting to blame myself
I can see the attraction
having a safe target
to take out my anger and frustration
to feel in control
with the illusion that self improvement could fix it
it’s preferable to accepting
that there is nothing at all I can do
maybe this is where the locus of fear comes from
growing slowly each morning in my stomach
I am alone
one of the many islands created in the deluge of our global actualization
we are each alone in our chrysalis
a symphony of painful transformations
does the moth think it has a choice?
does it always survive?

every day I release pains into the air
tufts of dandelion that ignite under the sun
I offer up the hurts
sacrifices to a blank slate
so I can appreciate a new day
so I can appreciate life
so I can keep loving