Sometimes I laugh at you.
Someday, laugh back.
‘Cause the calloused thoughts
That are written on my face,
Along the cracks of my lips
Are just as funny as the lines on your wrists.

Don’t smile at me.
Hate me because we are images of the same
insanity, or sanity- doesn’t matter
Because my roughened mouth will never reach for yours.
They will only glance at your wrists and pretend to ignore.
That pain doesn’t hurt.

Riverbeds like that started to bleed long ago.
Riverbeds like that don’t stop.

10/25/2002

Posted on 10/25/2002
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