Friday, April 06, 2007

tears my companions.

you are a poet?


do you have a poem i can read?

(i gave him bloodlust).

i am going to keep this, will you sign it for me.


let me buy you a coffee.

i'm okay.

we can have coffee and a conversation.

maybe tomorrow.

i'm here after ten.

yes. tomorrow.

light and sweet.


me, that is.

i laughed and drove away, to cry.

today ten o'clock came and i could not subject this kind stranger to my grief. i could not drown him in tears. so i drove to the gym, nearly blind. when will i have the courage to face a stranger. to let a stranger close to me again? those near me are only the ones who can touch me without breaking me. who can hear me without collapsing or demanding i pull myself together. those who can stand guard over the shadow of a woman who used to be me and who is not certain who she is anymore.

last night was a curious read, only myself and my dear friend were there to read, so i got to read an impromptu ten minute set. not the set i would have chosen had i known i would have time to read. but i did it. it went well. and i got home early.

i recited a poem to a man in the library (other than the man above), yesterday, and he blushed. it's a very sensual poem. and said,
i'll have to get that for my girlfriend.

yes. it will be in paterson literary review this summer
i said. and left.

i seem to withdraw into my containers these days. the places where i can let myself fall apart and be contained. i am going places i used to know, places that know me. sitting in chairs familiar around a few trusted souls who can abide with me during this time.

but today, i sit alone. and cry.


Miss Audrey said...

Tears my companions
And sometimes only friends
I bid them that they go away
And they come right back again

They catch me when I'm sleeping
They catch me when I wake
They are wreaking havok within me
They make me tremble
They make me shake
They make me aware
Of my pain
And yes, they are,
They are coming back again!

Tears my companions
My constants
My friends.
Just when I've dried them off
They come right back again!

Oh, don't you see?
Why can't you see?
My eyes are blistered and swole.
These heavy shadows,
This gaping wound
This emptiness in my soul.

So wash me tears
Come once again
As in you my sorrow can flow
Tears my companions
It's better than being -

siouxsiepoet said...

yeah, that's about the size of it audrey.