if i thought that you knew what love was, i
just might find myself asking
if you could ever love me. but most nights
you'll settle for the corner of your pillowcase,
and the tiny pedestal i built for your ego,
and any other look but this one on my face.

most nights you'll settle, you can always sleep
whether i'm there or not.
i wake - cold sweat and world war three
in my chest - i can't breathe - and you're telling me:
just stop.

my heart is not bullet-proof, but my blood
tries to be. blocking your insults from the left, from the right.
i think,
i think i heard everything i needed to know
in that tiny edge of boredom in your voice tonight.

midnight i'm leaving you. i'm climbing
the backdoor stairs with my heart in my hands,
bruised and aching for somebody that will
wait up for me.
i should not have thrown my heart
before i knew
you could
never
catch
it.

(2004)