hello. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?
i keep forgetting you exist—
pardon me, then again all offense—
but for some reason you stay
at the back of my head.

stop killing me within my chest.
i’m not a toy; you can’t take me
and break me
and hope for the best—
even though i’m probably better off dead.

and i can’t take you anywhere,
can i? you’re the blank spot,
the kettle (***?)
the pink elephant in the room.
no one likes you, so get out—

soon.

i have my whole story ahead of me.
i have to take the next step, build a life,
watch it fail (sorry, your influence
seems to prevail)
but survive. you can’t **** me.

(yeah, sorry, i know you can)

BUT YOU CANNOT CONSUME

(yeah, okay sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry—please,
don’t take me back to the emergency room)

The way to the city
on both sides of the street
was discretely displayed
then replayed
as recollections of the mundane
inequitable and respectable
a ubiquitous ritual
with screams of laughter
cries from shouting houses
and grimacing faces.

There was a stranger in my house today.
There was a stranger on my bus seat.
There was a stranger when I read the paper today,
and when I felt the humming of a heartbeat.

There was a stranger in the schoolyard,
he looked like the one beside him.
There was a stranger shouting out loud,
but with a mind too slim.

There was a stranger that said that he loved her,
and then kissed her on her lips.
There was a stranger feeling alone,
thinking there wasn’t more than this.

i am lost in my own mind,
like a cab lost in the wild
i would like to run
but there's no where to hide

i am shouting help
but you are close to being deaf
now i believe,
there is nothing left