I don't want to write about it
I don't want to think about it
I met another soul whose
heartbroke at birth and it
fused to mine--stuck, stuck
stuck, forever I was glued.
Forever, forever, forever
we constantly moaned that
word together, a child and
I, child who had seen
much and then needed,
needed, needed, needed
a crutch so then I took
hold, Oh, I took hold
Holding, Holding, Holding,
You really got a hold on me-
Baby, Lean on me,
Can't you see,
Can't you see me?
I'm leaning too far...
Going back--
I'll dance in the pink
that was the sweet everything
when my blue face planted nestled
in a pillow weeping, I wanted
no part of it, I wanted every
part of you back, I wanted
everything-too much--not enough.
My pallette satiated with your
complicated color-
But I desperately needed my
sweetest friend.
His emotional pull is like
a tide tugging and then swaddling
tucking under me--oh cynical
and cliche but, God, almighty
thoroughly loveable.
I don't want to write about it.
I don't want to think about it.
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Poets United Contributor
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