we don't want no housebroken hearts. we're in it for the long haul.

[    like, it's some great bloody cancerous growth sitting just beneath my skin-- between my breasts, perhaps a little to the left, yes, resting just against my heart (i know because i can feel it pulsing). soon, i think, it's going to leak its way from the cracks spreading up along my flesh and spill onto the empty page, filling every space between the thin blue lines with the viscous, tepid afterbirth of my waning    ]

here's a little bit of self-deprecation:
it's a fan-fucking-tastic day
                ... and i woke up with god's love in my heart
                (there was a warmth in there that could not be explained away by truth)
                feeling fine, but somehow, somewhere along the way
                between the shower and the second cup of
                Darjeeling, my bored and battered eyes
                slip to the floortiles, lead lidded, seeking comfort
                in a tapestry of not-yet-made memory.

                until i succumb to a state of sticky-eyed sleeptalking.
                until it becomes a dizzying struggle just to take out the recycling.

                            [     creativity. so it's angsty, perhaps, but you're the one
                            reading poetry. i'm perfectly allowed to hyperbolize. at least,
                            this way, it's better than having a baby -- the process is
                            painful, but i remain a sovereign individual. this brainchild
                            won't sap my every resource, won't talk back to me, won't
                            wither my breasts by its needful lips, won't grow up to
                            disappoint, won't     ]

someday i'll write a requiem
to all the dead things i've never really cared about:
                it'll take ten years; it'll be a masterpiece.
then we can curl back up into our wombs and sleep, for once.
see, someone once told me that "all emotion is beautiful,
if you manage to view it from a disinterested position".

                well now, just imagine
                a world full of hate
                and local anaesthetic.

                how beautiful.

                                          [     offer me any real satisfaction. i'm sure god
                                          would not approve. but i've never cared much for
                                          god or his contemporaries (except in academia).
                                          i used to think that everybody finds god in little
                                          things. in not stepping on the sidewalk cracks. in
                                          walking in time to the person strolling next to you,
                                          in that instant where their arm brushes up against
                                          your arm and you get a shot of what it's like to be     ]

                                                             a tragedy-- ???
                                                             maybe poe had it right after all,
                                                             the ornery bugger.

                                                                  [     human... in the best sense
                                                                  of the word. lately, though, i've been
                                                                  wondering. i can ramble until my mother
                                                                  dies about faith this and love that,
                                                                  watching the teabag sit at the bottom
                                                                  of my cold english breakfast, but
                                                                  in the end     ]
                                                                    
                                                                               it can't be!
                                                                               it can't be!
                                                                               i need to wake up!
                                                                               stretch into my sunrise skin!
                                                                               two more sips to consciousness!

                                               [     is it really god i'm looking for? or is it     ]

                                              call off your dogs. i can see it now.
                                              is it god? does it matter?
                                              is it

                                              [     you     ]

[     ?     ]