fragments

"You know what we said about the U.S. and S.A.,
that feeling, like opening your own front door, arriving home?
That feeling like a dull discomfort when you're
somewhere different, a distant, nagging tension
that is more like a lacking than a presence?


A sigh in your mind of relief on walking
through the gate,
then the door,
whether it's arriving home,
or landing in a homeland,
or."


"From the slanted gap of the blind and the wall,
the sun sneaks in, lights up the thumbtacks in my wall
like little stars,
a constellation just like ours,
and just like every other detail of beauty in this world,
it reminds me of us, of where we've been,"


"I know I eventually have to stand up,
and stop crying, and dust myself up
for however much acting.
But I can't seem to pull myself out
of this heap on the floor,
see getting up means leaving something behind"


"No words.
None that you haven't heard, anyway.
And they won't change things no matter how much we say them."


"Can't write.
Can't eat.
Can't stop crying.
Can't become anything more
than a heap of not us,
sobbing at its lacking on the floor."


"limiting and forced
stroll around my mind,
tormenting me,
while more fish in the sea
laughs itself dry."



It was just a world hard to leave,
hard to walk away from simplicity,
even if artificial or temporary.

But you are the real world, we are.
And that will not change,
even if we at some point evolve.

amo te