Thursday, October 25, 2012


I can't stand to see you
enjoy being happy, 
gulping down those 
warm ephemeral forkfuls,
something rotten inside pulls

reminded of constant loss
phantom limb syndrome finds
me missing my heart and I'm
missing the mark hard 
playing a chartreuse cavalier
elbow deep in want,
skin bleeding sighs,
so often forgetting the grass 
is always greener 
in other people's lives

Under this weight, 
I am a tree gnarled and bent,
avoided of late and best seen
only in small increments.

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