of all the electrons accumulating my negative space,
proudly wearing my sourpuss face--
you don't need to walk in here
with back-scratching fingers and dinner in cartons,
to lazy on my couch and tell me that you can't be without me.

because i have built this bitter from scratch,
and baby, i don't need another outspoken wrench in my wheel
to plant seeds in my sockets and flirt with my fancies.

i have played the fool card,
and holed myself up long enough to determine
that guitar-toting, jawbreaker biting,
wall-punching bloody knuckled foes
are meant for those who feel the need to play that game
of chase chase chase.

you just want whatever shrinks away from you.

so i think i wear hostile well,
because the only time you really want me
is when i'm making poo jokes and spitting on your shoes.

fine then, take me gross and gritty
with dirty hair and ragged skirts,
because i've learned that changing for you
is charged with the kind of air my kind repels from.

and i'm pretty sure our particles were never meant to attract,
so let's float in the firmament, and forget what we were.

maybe in the end we were meant to be neutrons.

11/13/2007

Posted on 11/13/2007
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