I am not a tortured soul,
and don't get me wrong--
I've had my share of heartbreaks,
but I am lonliest, at times,
when I am not alone.


Dear-est mist-er sir,
I felt as though I'd never left
that room, completely, or
maybe just that
state of mind.

When I remember the
immaturity
of it all, I think about
the color indigo;
not-quite-blue-but-not-quite-purple,
all of the in-betweens;
grey-defined hues,
settling like dust,
or maybe cold really is a color.

But I no longer fear the idea that
you might actually say something
I don't want to hear.
I am no longer afraid that
you might actually see me
afraid,
and I really listen,
and I really laugh,
and I really feel it,
and Oh--My God !
I don't analyze your
silence, your
expressions, your
actions.

But I do still refer to
Meet Joe Black
when accompanied by a bowl of
Lucky Charms.

 
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