I am awake, lids closed, vibrating eyeballs
placed inside this jar in which I hold

all the words inside my head, and
all the things my eyes can't see.

I masturbate to the thought of freedom of
my speech and I censor myself yet again,

become obsessed with someone I am not, and
become possessed by a war within myself I don't want to win.

I am restless always, doors closed, sentences
running on inside my mind that take control

of what I hold back from nobody but myself,
of what I hold back from everybody else, and I remain silent

except to laugh, because I am so perfect I am ill as a result,
and I am cynical, so everything is funny.

I am so much more than I have room to store
inside this jar I keep on the shelf labeled

'I CAN'T LOVE ANYMORE',

even though all I can feel is love,
even though all I can hear is pain, and so the next jar says

'I AM SHUTTING THE DOOR'.

There's a side of me I loathe that becomes cocky
in the face of insecurity and I just love so many people,

but it's so much easier to hate,
but it's so much easier to become everyone else that way.

08/18/2007