Sunday morning poems

Sunday May 2, 2004

heal me

I cut myself open
so that I might have
another chance to heal

 the mild fan dancer

I am too mild. 
(piss water)
I don’t think this is a problem for most
In fact I don’t know anyone
That is too mild.
Everything,
Every thought,
idea,
opinion,
fact,
fiction,
lie,
truth
I stuff inside. 
I have never confessed everything
(fan dancing)
not even close
(without your glasses)
while others erupt around me
I say nothing
and eat another donut
to keep my
expressions
(reactions)
in check

Beautiful Freak

Today for the first time
you told me I was beautiful.
Well, I asked you if you thought
I was beautiful and you said
“yeah... Sometimes.”
”When your not being a crazy baby.”

 

Broken Spell
I just want to be in that zone, that place where I can see everything without giving anything away.  Besides, I ‘m accepted here.  For all the evil things I am, for all the talents I possess and the spell which is now broken

Clarence John Laughlin

Progress
Regress

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