Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Whining

A woman helped me to realize

How little I know about love

How much pain is involved

When I desperately don’t want to love but do

When I want to tear the beating memory of her out of my mind

When I curse God for being love, if this is love

I want to gouge out my heart and crush my skull

And float, comfortably numb, in a head without a mind

At least my neutrality in that static would make sense

It feels perverse, loving her

Who holds my weakness over my head

And makes me dance for her amusement

That weakness is my love

How absurd