The Lid
The lid | You can't see me || Home
Poetry is all for You
Poetry is all for You
The only thing I can do for you
is write this poem, and that poem,
and this poem.
The only way I can talk to you
is through this paper, these letters,
these words.
Distances and circumstances divide us,
misunderstanding and fear ..... the walls
that prevent us
from finding each other and what might be.
The days are long
and the nights longer
in
empty sleep.
I tear your memory from my mind
and stop reliving minutes in time
that pretend there is promise in something
yet to be.
I return to the only thing I can really do for you
and write this poem, and that poem,
and this poem.
You can't see me
SEEING you not
seeing me
as I really am inside
or care to be seen
on the outside
is paralyzing and tormenting.
And every new word you uttered
dissolved a hope
i had nourished
of birthing a bond between us.
And every new word you uttered
nailed the coffin shut
a little tighter
into the flesh of my heart.
Finally, spending time with you
in a space I carefully claimed
for us,
you talked about your life
with her ...
SEEING you not
seeing me
as I really am inside
or care to be seen
on the outside
is a blinding storm
of crashing and homeless
intimate desires.
Stone cold
Your image is stone cold.
no expression
do you give away
to say you notice
anything about me.
i
watch your face
and
you remain
stone cold.
a beautiful blizzard
commanding the room.
intent on your world
directed
by thoughts and questions
i am amazed
by your lack of distraction
and disinterest
in the voice
that is calling you by name
and whispering
in the wind
that brushes your face.
the eyes that follow you
and burn trails
in your shadow
are saddened by the complete mystery
of your unresponsiveness
and how to unlock
your stone cold
heart.
The lid
The lid is sliding
off the box.
I let it slide.
I want it off
so that you can climb out of the box.
