here we sit
talking
to one another
as if it hadn't happened
we laugh
we speak about everything
but the weather

here we sit
in silences bought
with gold
as if we didn't want to speak
about everything but
the weather

here we sit
you and I
we're changing so fast
that we're
unrecognizable to everyone
but each other

here we sit.

i live with
this open wound as
every one tries to hand me a bandaid
while i want it to stay
glaring at the world
i find myself different
from last year
from last week
from yesterday
and i don't really mind
how much this wound hurts
just wish it wasn't there
as it begins to sting
more than the salt water
that comes from my eyes
and the pain at the back of my
throat

an open freezer, and the smell of
frozen
"we complicate things"
I laugh about
too many lemon heads
and he says
"We have this connection"
and his eyes tell me
its not a lie
even when I don't
want truth
the painful truth
because he puts
his hand on my arm
and tells me he's
leaving
but its not hard
because he's not for real
and we both know it
even as she laughs
with him in his
shallowness
I want to say he's someone else
I want to tell her she's not real
either
I want them to stop pretending

someone asked me
the other day
what I wanted to be
and to my chagrin
I couldn't answer -
because the only
thing
I want to be
is someone who wants
to be something

you are shattered pieces of glass
a mirror I can't put back together
I want to hold you and just let you mourn
because voices don't suffice
you want to throw yourself at walls
and wake up in the tomorrow of
five years from now
but there is no fast forward button
on this cliche movie "Life"
was I naive to think you could never hurt?
yet you flee from my medicines
the things I think I want
you want to be fixed the right way
even though its a gradual painful movement
from haziness
to clarity
and I give you a red badge of courage
for not making yourself bleed
even as catharsis exudes from every pore
and I toast to you
for not drawing near to substances
as you watch from a window
and I hold you dear
for not hating me in all of this
while we're spending time trying to fend off
the "advice" that they so freely offer

does the angel lose her voice as she is
drowning in her contemplation?

I see expensive hands
Floating across the surface
They don't puncture the exterior
Or seize any sort of depth

I see the mouth of a pretender
The mask of the superficial
All encompassing
We don't say anything but lies these days

I see you reaching now
Grasping toward the edge of your bubble
Making truth apparent
Is so much harder when you're blind
Am I blind?