Whene'er I sing
"The Parting Glass,"
I know I've made myself a liar.

For I sing that all the harm
I've ever done
Was only ever to me.

But I think of a boy
With ice blue eyes
And hair as fine as silk

And know I dealt
A painful,
Parting,
blow.

I'm so lost,
displaced,
without any drive
to get back to
where I was.

I want to go,
And be free.

But the desire to succeed
is weighted down by
something black and cold.

The night blurs.
I'm not sure in what order
Everything happened.
But that's how I always am.
A little application
Of bourbon and ale
Didn't exacerbate habits.

The laughter of friends
Overpowers any memory
Of the semi-educational show
That was playing in the background.
I was much more interested
In the smiles painting
Each present human's face.

I remember the end in vivid detail.
All of us,
Turned toward the screen finally.
I remember losing my fingers
In his hair
When he sat at my feet
And leaned back.
These absentminded movements
Became intentional
When he leaned into them like a cat.
I remember when I first
Brushed his lips on accident,
And how he wordlessly
Invited me to do it again.
My hands drifted down his neck,
Across his shoulders and back.
I hope I provided some relief.

I remember when,
As one hand returned
To draw across his face once more,
He kissed my fingers,
Drawing them between his lips
Like one might a lover.

Funny How the Times Change

a teetotaler
and pacifist
gave me this mug
and i filled it
with ale
and tears.

I Cannot Take from You

You do not get my energy.
Not anymore.
Not when I am already
So tired.
      How can I spend such a valuable resource
               so liberally on you?

You give little back,
Only smiles and laughter.

When the darkness comes
You are far away,
       insulated by your books and schoolwork
                                         in a tower where I dare not cast
                  my little cries.
You say you want to give me time
But how can I ask for it
When you seem barely free
                                             to ask for mine?

I want to give,
And give without restraint.
But to do so,
                    I have to take.

For whatever reason,
I cannot take from you.

I want him to confront me.
I want just a hint
That he might notice
More than the part I play.
I want a confrontation
Because those always lead
To character development
And stunning revelations.
I want him to stop
Believing the white lies
And to throw them back
At my deceiving face.

I want him to care.

I want his love.

But I can't ask for it.

I'm not good enough to do so.

A cat who knows that he is king
Can hardly be displaced.
His meows are commands
Not requests as he winds his way
Around your legs and into your heart.
This stray that walked onto the porch
From who-knows-where
Has so ingratiated himself
You are sad to see him go.

Goodnight my almost lover.
This time,
I think we almost had each other,
Almost caught in glances,
Glancing smiles
That ricochet between us.

Goodnight my almost lover.
Tonight
You stayed my fears.
You made the night day
Lighting with too many stars
The start of joy.

He was so wonderful
That night -
Like any night really -
In his finery
And I in mine.

How we danced -
As if there was
No one else -
Will stay
A pleasant memory.

My greatest smiles,
All my joy
And the sense
Of being carefree,
That was reserved
For when I was
In his arms
And his arms alone.

I would rather be here,
Surrounded by people I like
And enjoy
Without any pressure to be different.
I can be so weird
Because they are, too.
Let me stay.

I do not know my history.
I do not know my past.
The faded lines
That run up into the years
Are lines I cannot draw.
I cannot trace them
Nor can I name them.

I am adrift,
Cut off from tradition.
These are things
I long to know
But the people who knew them
Are dead.

Tar

Thank you for sitting with me.
Thank you for leaving your own fun
To talk with pathetic me
And drink tea.
Admittedly, the tea was awesome,
As was our conversation.
Rather than anything else,
Ridding my sorrows in tea,
Rolling them away with friends,
That's better than going home alone
And drinking something else,
Ruining who I am in the process.

'Tis better to be alone
Than lonely.
What improvement it would be
To sit in solitude
Beneath a tree,
Shielded from rain,
Rather than stand
By one's self
In a room crowded with people.
Yes,
I know what I prefer.
It may seem strange,
It may seem sterile
And harsh
To so flatly walk away
In order to sit in the cold.
But I would rather abandon
The crowd
Than you abandon me.