and I would like a coffin
made of
smooth and dark wood cut from aspen trees
and I would like to wear
faded out blue jeans, frayed at the bottom
and triple fringed moccasins
and a worn out teared up denim shirt
and please cover me
with makeup
I wouldn't want you to see
see my face.

please don't grieve me
I can so easily become
the fragile breeze flapping morosely
at the leaves swaying outside your window
and so easily become
the wispy shadow cast by somnolent clouds
on empty worriless summer days
and I can so easily become
nothing

I've grown tired
of wanting
wanting understanding
wanting to know of the moon and stars
wanting to touch you where it hurts you
and take the hurt away
wanting to wake up to mornings wrapped
like in a cocoon
wrapped in safety
wanting
to cut holes inside my bones so that I can
I can see the things wrong inside
so that I can
fix me
I've grown tired
of trying to fix me

have you seen the world lately?
spinning off its axis
spiraling
into
black truculent
nothingness
look out your window
beyond your naive wishing
look and see
the world that I see
the world that gets under my skin
and tingles its way to my heart

and my heart shivers
like winter snow under a street light
shivers in its casing
as I lay in 30 pieces
at the stoop of your back door

and I
I would never want to hurt you
so I
I continue living
continue trying
to fill up
the vacancy that is
me

and you
G-d, how you hurt me
and yet
you swear
swear you love me
and hold me in a smile's grasp
and whisper dusty promises
that smell of
pumpernickel cake.