Part-Time Love

The soul and the heart may be attached
But they are not the same
Not in my case
Hopefully
Not in yours for that matter
Hopefully
We all gave up our hearts
700 years ago
Evolution or something
Anyways

If you were to address the matter of love
And its rightful place
Who is to truly know
If it dwells in the heart or soul
I'm hoping both
In my case
Though I gave up my heart
And you, yours, long ago
There must still be love
In our souls
Some love would be displaced
By our detached hearts
But some can glow
In the part of us we know least
In the part
You would never own

In the part
You can't give away
On clear or rainy days
When you feel like giving up
When you don't want to feel
When you beg for pain
I think I'll love again
Even without my heart
If its all the same
To you

Fear and Love

Mr. Moon,
I havent been home in years
I've been dragging the tiny skulls of my fears
Behind my dusty back
Tied round my neck by
Tiny strings
Everywhere I roamed
They attached them to me

I miss you
I mimic longing looks of love
Deep love
"What?"
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
I don't know
I do know
I knew it was you behind his eyes

And his eyes
Not quite his, but almost, still
I haven't been home in years
Those who know
Of those strings with little bones
Think me silly
Better of them to think that
Then to have them know

Of the debt I owe
To you- I took your heart
I left it at home
And until I find mine
And pay you my soul
I'll keep collecting
These tiny fearsome bones

Dreams Make for Poetic Dissonance

Outside this building there was


Two huge trees and a water system

With large piping connecting to a shallow

Pool of water

Something happened and She got stuck

In the piping but He went to go find

Her



They both disappeared. She showed

Up about an hour later but we still

Couldn’t find Him. Then we found a

Body stuffed in one of those pipes-

Still no Him.

It was some ten year old kid. Then

A lot of kids were

Climbing on the largest tree. It was huge

And had a wide trunk.



I started looking at a narrow space between

The leggy roots

Of the tree

And the mucky ground

I saw a limp foot. It was Him-

His body was pinned down, face buried

In the mud.



I asked someone if He was still alive

They said “Probably not”

We pulled Him out

And starred at Him for a few minutes

He finally came alive

I stared into His empty eyes
We didn’t say anything.

Why I hate Dogs

I keep my nonperishable groceries in a plastic bag on the floor in my room
They say you turn into your mother
I am horrified of this truth,
And justify my actions:
-She'll eat all of it- it would be a waste of the healthy food I'm trying to fuel my body with
-I used my own money its mine
-I refuse to eat her unhealthy food and be part of the reality she's superimposed on our household
-Its not the same as when she hides cookies in the drawer in her room

So today I got home and found urine on this plastic bag
From her dog Oliver
I hate him
He is smart, and when I tell him "Oliver, I hate you"- he knows.
I hate him so much
I tried to keep my door shut
But I saw his action and it filled my heart with total rage
I threw out the bag and my precious food

I used to yell at him and he would tuck his tail between his legs
Now I've given up
Why does he do it?
- Its not that I really care- Still...
Is it that he has mutual canine hatred for me?
Is it out of his loyalty to my mother- some cruel demonstration of retribution?
Is it his way of telling me he is superior?

No.
He's just a dog.
Though he hates me, he's probably just marking his territory.
I take no responsibility for his obvious lack of better training.
I imagine him pushing my door open with his snout
Snooping around for food, and finding the bag.
As he's standing there, urinating, he hears the pitter patter of his bodily fluid
On the plastic bag.
The sound soothes him.
And he eventually retreats back to her throne.