relationships with others

I understand that from a spiritual standpoint there is no other, simply different expressions of us experiencing existence at different levels of consciousness, but I’m invoking artistic license here.

our feelings aren’t ours –
they belong to all!
be glad as they move thru you

yellow high-chair hangs
on the table –
my parents were hanging on too

wire hanger welts
whatever skin it finds –
this is for your own good

father taught disinterest
trying to unlearn
d            i           s          i         n        t       e      r     e    s   t  e d

arm hairs stand
on a warm february mourn –
father’s ashes are cold

thoughts of you
on late sunday mourning
become poems you will never read

you say
i’m so sensitive
like it’s a bad thing
are you projecting?

sunpuddle spills thru window
& finds me floored
i feel your warmth once more

“you ever see a murderer dressed as a mailman?”
you ask, & take another drink
the night passes
i sip, you chug

you spill your beer & get another
saying, “i think about hanging myself every night
i know how to tie the knot
i know the bridge i’m going to jump

i’m instantly sober

what do i do with that information
how do i tell you thoughts aren’t truth
how do i tell you thoughts are ugly graffiti you can ignore,
or a song on the radio you can turn down,
or not even listen to
how can i tell you in one night
something that’s taken me all my life to learn
                you’re not listening anyway
how can i help someone who doesn’t want it
i’m ill-equipped

i remind you of all the things
you have to live for:
                                                your passions
                                                your child
                                                your friends
your hollow eyes stare
& you tell me you love me
for the nine-hundredth time that night
& then you’re repeating yourself
asking, “have you ever had your nose broken?”

no, but i tell you how i broke my back
broke my ribs
& how they punctured my lungs
when the car flipped
it doesn’t register
you’re just asking me
about the mailman again
& drinking your beer
so i just sit
& listen
& wait for you to
tire yourself out
because i can do nothing else for you

a smile
shared with a stranger
can mean so much
to a quarantined heart

you lips look like they taste like summer
kiss me
& keep me warm til then

rounding your thigh’s curve
for the first time
my finger remembered the route

if your heart is a hearth
let me rest in your inglenooks
safe & warm

fading –
like your scent on my shirt –
inhaling every moment

little wonder
don’t let the darkness
your smile brightens all

relationships with the world

relationship with Self

back to poetry & haiku

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