sad

I like to be sad.  I cherish the sincerity of it, the privacy & otherness.  Silent grief is a pain I trust; it is a trunk I carry on my travels, filled with memory and longing, filled with the last remnants of loves and voices long since turned to silent dust.  Sorrows are the lost treasures of my fallen empires, the ruins of my forgotten histories.  For me, to grieve is to touch again some lost, bright joy--sometimes the only joy I know.  Grieve, and be alive; do not numbly die.

specific monsters

we are specific monsters

to those we choose, otherwise

charming, magnificent, gracious

human beings, laughing & kind.

or however else we think ourselves;

and when we cast off these thoughts

letting some specific person have us:

the real monster underneath:

then intimacy couples with hate,

for why else would i ever be so cruel

as to let you meet me thus?

we choose our victims carefully

from those we love the most--

here, beloved, now witness me

and i will be a monster to you.

October 2021