so i'm back

to the stone front
and the crazy plastic owl that turns his
head slowly in the passing breeze.

there are 2 dos exis
boxes in front of your house out with the
trash,
the tree in the yard is nice and full
the dog with white whiskers
sleeps on the floor.

you are the same..and i am too.
so i'm back
to staring at the stone Buddha
and the the glass pebbles in the dish next to the serenity
sand zen garden with tiny rakes i want to touch

you watch my hands always..
and they always move and fiddle
with the pillows..my collar of my shirt..
the buttons on my purse.

i want to straiten the books on the shelve
my eye always lingers on the
food and hunger book
i'm always hungry

(i think about going to the dollar store next
and buying some candy to eat..)

i'm talking
about pain
about being lonely all the time
about the girl
and wanting to sit in a car
with her and wanting to ask
her for the impossible
all over again

you think i need to be
with people that make me
feel better about myself.
it's hard.. i tell you.

i want to sit in the car
with her and ask
her
'how do you feel about suicide?'
really
i do.

and somehow this scares and comforts me
at the same time.