"poetry doesn't belong in Love"
i cannot reply
in an emotion
that is like any other
so don't tell me your tears
are better than mine
just because you carry them in a balloon
in your pocket
and they drip when you
pull out your car keys
Maybe i've never finished weeping
but my tears fall down my back
and you just call it sweat
Maybe my fingers leave trails
of goosebumps when i pass
them down your back
but i can't even tell
when you rip off my head
and scream down my throat
asking if anybody's home
down there
"I'm in Love"
is the excuse for your insanity
and i'm not sure if all this goddamn
cussing is convincing enough
or if i have to
cry crystal tears
and wear a black flowered dress
in a field of shit
Leaking
so you can gather and sculpt my sorrow
into a window
and install me across
the street from a vacant lot
where neighborhood kids
throw rocks in the air
and try to run away
without stoning themselves
You
hoping
maybe someday they'll hit me
Blast a stone thru my gut
and you'll need another blanket
when you're reclining on the sofa
next to my splinters
you live in a house
broken of windows
thinking you're so in tune
because you can't escape the weather
and you feel the frost alongside
the rug on November mornings
take a Jell-o mold off the kitchen cupboard
and hold it close for as long as
you want to experience my heart.
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