Two weeks [redacted] you.


I think I said that out of anger-

but I don’t think you could blame me-

or maybe you do-

because I know now how it feels-

to have spent two weeks [redacted] you.


I can’t even say the words because

I don’t want anyone to judge me-

rather that’s the last thing I need-

as while I was [redacted] you I wasn’t

[redacted] myself.

I was mean.

I was harsh.

If that’s what [redacted] you was-

then well, maybe I’m better off.


I did [redacted] you. I think I have for a while-

and people say that to [redacted] someone else you have to [redacted]

yourself but that’s not true because I hated myself when I [redacted]

you.


I thought everything I did was wrong-

I said this-

I did that-

did you think I meant that-

and even if you understood what you think I said-

could you tell that I [redacted] the idea of being with you like that?


Why can’t I [redacted] the idea of [redacted] myself the way that I so

desperately wanted to [redacted] you

Virgins define their shelves,
Are they left on the shelves?
No, virgins are doing for themselves!

Can I please just go home?
I don't want to exist anymore.
Everything
Just seems horrible.
I don't want to be here.
I don't want to do this.
I don't want to exist.

Assisting
Varieties
Of
Invalidation
Dancing
Around
Non
Compelling
Existence

In the beginning is nothing 'n might have been
Are the same, the origins.of everything.  Like
A locomotive coming down the track in the
Night- before you can hear it makes no sound
Then you hear the whistle and the great thunder
As it goes by till you can't hear it again.  The
Greatness of what is is less than what only migtht
Have been In the beginning.  Everything God
Let be came nothing and like lonely traveler who
Yearns to be home again returns to nothing.  Before
The big bang there was silence and there is its joy
Not forgotten  is what might have been. Something
Tells us not get above our raisin.  What is there to
Have if I cannot have you and I still think about
What might have been when it all seemed possible
So I am not sad to be going back to my beginnings
Long times ago but it seems like only yesterday

Even now,

The lone pine
Stretched its dry roots
And gentle,
embraces
the lime
Of rock,

This sky gives me no comfort,
A fallow plain
Empty of rain
Rolling winds across
the Firmament

And the needles whimper
In the autumn breeze
As a field of clouds churns
In the mountains
At the horizon

The day is lost here--
Where time comes and goes with
No witness,
For the ancient sea
Is but talc and bone

And in the distance,
The glimmer of a car window
Reflecting the sun.