this stream-of-consciousness bullshit, figuring it
out in real time, is harder than it seems--
her self-inflicted pain she sends to me even as
she closes down lines
i love her, i love her, yes i do, is she trying to
punish me for that? so it seems
two
of the hardest things in my life to take
one, that she'd rather not wait for me.
speaking gently, trying
for the middle path, while
her decapitations await on either side
go ahead, stretch me a little thinner, love
i'm not breaking
i'm not breaking now
notes from a not-for-profit life. reader notes for poems: bold represents emotional thought, boldness; italics represent narrator-thought or God-thought.
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