I believe, I believe
my song
hums like it’s poetry
I believe
the singer
hums like poetry
I’ve been standing in the nick of time for so long
I’ve been waiting like it’s my rainbow
Someday, my song
I believe, I believe
anything
I believe
I just want to talk about myself
I feel October having its way with me again
I smell
the hum
of electricity
I believe
you
are my best friend
Someday, my song
in the nick of time
humming like poetry
8 November 1990
Age 21
Categories: hope · loneliness
Living for you and
through me
is my hobby;
it’s my way.
Heavy book
recounts me and
bears down
another page.
I am so sick of love.
The audience gets restless
waiting for my ring
to turn green on my finger.
This may be too much for me,
too much now.
Love is work,
and then it becomes a job.
Everything—
no less;
everything I haven’t got.
Living for you and
through me
is my hobby;
it’s my way.
Heavy book
recounts me and
bears down
another page.
I am so sick of love.
25 April-17 July 1990
Age 20
Categories: fatigue · loneliness · scorn
Christmas is gone again
like another hotel guest,
and with it went
the brilliant revelation I hoped
would unchain me.
I stalked and hovered,
but when I finally pounced,
I fell upon nothing
once again.
My hopes made a Christmas promise to me
that happiness and togetherness would prevail
over desolation and loneliness,
in honor of and beyond
The Season.
A promise never kept;
I fell for it again.
26 December 1990
Age 21
Categories: depression · isolation · loneliness
