it took all the words I still believed
to know you for a moment you’ve
since forgotten. on to something
a little more flesh and blood. ha–
who could blame you? who knew
what we said anyway? only you
and I, which is now just I and an
empty hotel room is funny, isn’t
it? you’re not even a ghost, you
are just someone I knew for one
moment and now you are still
playing with words like a happy
child, playing with belts like a
performer. everything is still
in place for you and I was just
an image and a word and a voice
but only real or so, so you don’t
know me really, do you? easier
that way to let go. so you do, like
a happy child does. and my stories,
my heart in my fingertips, my real
lump here, well, you said you wanted
me inside you. but that was a place
that never existed. and this was a
blip, a glitch, a page you crumpled
up and threw away so you could be
a happy little girl again. so be it.
I am screaming into nothing about
being a real boy, about being real.
but tree falls in empty forests, blah
blah blah, you wouldn’t dream
(anymore) about hearing it.
