Blacked out
I can’t write love poems to another man
sitting a mile from your apartment in a car alone
a year after we spontaneously
combusted together
(I guess when the sparks stopped falling, so did you)
I’m here in this well lit
parking lot, empty, mostly
I drove past your place on
my way here
my hometown shut down tonite
and your windows were just as
dark
and I didn’t want to but I
wondered if you are in there alone
or if there is a girl with you or even if
you are not there at all.
and I heard a song I love
and hated it
I saw places, little things,
that
used to knock out a killer smile
and I hated them, too.
I saw couples shopping
in the middle of the summer (God
how that word stings) night
and I suddenly hate them too
because they are not
alone
fleeing darkness
alone
the only thing I have is
something nameless and the
perfectly sane and ever desirable
status of being somewhere where
no one will find me because no
one knows I’m here
yeah, if my heart
had a blackout
the lights just flickered back on
and when I can see
I find out you’re (please GO AWAY!
Wasn’t that what you wanted to do, anyway?)
still there.
So I write this missive
to you.
And I don’t know what I want
undone more –
all this or
me.
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