The Ocean Run Dry

Let me bleed.
Let me run.
Let me decide.
Let my ocean run dry.

Let me see you.
Let the day stop.
Let the rush come;
let it stay;
let me feel it.
Let me hide;
hide me.
Let me stay;
let me go;
then let me come back.

Let these words be written,
but make me speak.
Let me say what I can,
but make me say what I mean.

Let me run,
but don’t let me go;
I know you understand.
Let me doubt your love,
then prove me wrong.
Let me trust you;
don’t let me be alone.
Let me let you mean too much to me;
you can let me down,
just don’t let me go.

I’ve wanted you for so long.
Now you’re here
when I thought I would die.
Let me love you;
let my ocean run dry.

19 September 1989
Age 20

Endless End

Now I’m at the beginning;
again, I am beginning.
I always start to say—
but I can’t say it right away,
and I’m beginning to fear
an endless end.

I try to rest when I sleep
and survive when I’m awake;
I don’t know what else to do:
this is an endless end.

My heart is empty
no matter what I do;
this day will end,
and tomorrow will just be another
to get through.

I don’t know but to fear;
this is an endless end.

I’ve dug myself into myself for years;
I know what is wrong,
what is right,
and why,
except I don’t trust myself.

Here is the end of another day.

17 April 1990
Age 20

Like a Cliff

I feel cold
Not as if I’m standing in an ice storm
But more like I’m standing on an edge,
Like a cliff
With the wind blowing into my face
Scattering my hair and thrusting
Past the tails of my coat.
The moon shines over my face
And there is a sharp contrast between midnight blue
And another blue that hardly exists.
I overlook the city,
The light shimmering and dancing
And all that other etc. related to beauty.
I don’t know why I’m here
Or how I got here,
Or even where I am.
All I know is that I’m alone
And half of me doesn’t mind
While the other half wants to scream a name—
That certain name—
Loud enough so that the entire city will stop
And turn towards me and ask me to repeat myself.
What is the name? What is the name?
There is no name now,
Or perhaps not even in the first place.
Just a blank space to go with the blank stare
Seeing nothing to focus on
Just the world in which I live.

March 1987
Age 17

Vacancy

Driving across a field
I find a vacancy
It’s just for me, the vacancy
Is just for me
I pull myself into the vacancy

When my heart is hollow, I run for miles that I can’t see
Call somebody important to know I’ll be so far away
And far away you won’t be able to see the lines in my face
No book to read, nor sign of any time
Call me a cab and drive me across a field
I’m looking for a vacancy that’s just for me
Tune me in and let me out into the vacancy
It’s claiming to be just for me

Winter 1986
Age 16