NPM: I Do Not Think of You

I do not think about you from time to time
and wonder how you’ve been.
I do not ponder if your broken heart has healed,
and if you’ve found love.
I do not feel a pang at that thought,
nor do I feel an accompanying sense of relief.
I do not worry about the path you’ve taken
or hope for your safe return home.
I don’t see your face in my dreams
or consider what your family must think
or replay any of our memories in my mind.
Clearly, you see, I do not think of you at all.

On Writing

The pen, the brush

Written in life’s blood

Written in quicksilver

Thin pages spun from sugar

The heat, the violence

The pen flies but can’t keep up

The paper tears, melts, dissolves

The brush bleeds monochrome

My thoughts rise up, a wordless wail

Like a wild horse, I try to break those thoughts

Bend them to my will

Make them lie still upon the page

Force them to behave, to communicate

To reach into your mind and grip it

Just as they have gripped mine

To help you feel

To help you know

What’s behind my eyes, my smile

The wordless wail contained, restrained

In fumbling words

(This is an older piece, but I haven’t shared it on this blog, so here you go.)