part of the problem

i think
his heart is a nomad
she pursues
hoping one day
it’ll stop
and break beat
with her

but moratorium is a difficult feat
for him
and that heart of his.

so i tell her:
most humans don’t deserve all of you
just bits and pieces
of your excess.

she chalks this golden penny
of thought to some sort of bitterness
on my part.
and i am willing to admit being
a part jaded, one quarter cynical
once jasmine honeysuckle & magnolia woman
now unwilling to walk through
the charade of plucking petals
chanting
he loves me he loves me not.

the thing is; we don’t agree on a lot
and i never minded that much
but this time
i really want her on this
’cause its hard to move forward
when the two sides of me
are warring about the direction.

dialogue in commute

watched myself
pass by
in the mystery of shop windows;
going unnoticed
between books & people
pushing pass
surface emotions.

i tell myself i can do this;
can introduce my self to people.
‘ll Probably say:
“i’m a girl
turned woman in commute…”

((leaving that statement half finished to ask;))

“do you listen
to the road rage
folding itself into
the horns of anger?”

((rehearsing that))

Until…
once again i’m at that park
in Brooklyn
crawling out of my skin
& Rorschach’s test won’t convince me
that hanging it upside down on a branch
to be nude in moratorium
is lunacy

ByTheWay,
i changed my mind
about that girl thing;
i’m just a person.

you know…

enamored with colors and images
falling from the lips of men
with madonna whore complexes.
& i’ve been in therapy enough times
to know what that is

& in case you didn’t know
there is intellectual comfort
in reading odd books
and cereal boxes
— maybe you don’t need to know that—
cause that is the normal stuff
but I’m telling you anyway…
…a just in case kind of thing.

however
u might find this particularly interesting:

i was once diagnosed a lot of things

until they concluded
my ego states are normal fragments
of a healthy personality.

some still think i’m some sort of  functional crazy.
but anywho,

what’s your story?