dizzy

 i can’t keep up this pace, break-neck speed. its hard to write a poem every day and make sure that you see me at my best and not my worst when tonight ive felt my worst again.  and the stars made infinity so hard to live with.  so did someone elses long, tan body taking off his shirt in the school park and every pair of eyes seems to have an invitation now.  it’s a question of wanting something because it’s forbidden.  and you and me? we’re a question of how long we can hold our breaths.  i suddenly feel like a fire took hold of me, wrenched me unconscious in its passionate heat and has suddenly blown out.  i feel like a burnt coal, white and ash-covered.  and empty, tired, lonely, scared, exhausted and amazed by what i’ve jumped into.  yes, high dive is exhilarating but dangerous and god, i’m tired of looking down.  i’m dizzy and sea-sick and all my poems are about oceans and dead flowers and dirty clothes.  maybe tomorrow i can wash away this bitter taste, this ugly film on my outside and remember that hard times are part of the deal.  

maybe if you hadn’t started making a plan to come see me, and i can hardly believe it, and i don’t feel my heart jump for joy (not even once, not even a little kick) just a slight flutter, more of nerves than of excitement.  you’ll come to my other home, disrupt my second week of class, kick my roommate out and hope for the best.  what then?  can i say ‘no don’t come’? not now, after i’ve encouraged it, thinking it wasn’t possible.  

i think most of these feelings are a result of conversing with you mostly after midnight.  my brain can’t take it, my emotions can’t take it.  because i love you.  and i just have to listen to my voice inside, try to meditate and listen listen listen and follow.  and figure out what i need to stop feeling trapped because some days i live for the suspense and for seeing your digital face at the end of a long day.