Monday, March 19, 2012

the other white meat of cathartic art

...the way you laughed
When I asserted;
“I know you.”

It’s my fault,
I know.

Through ill-timed August rains,
(as they say)
And inconvenient March snow

You let it go.
You let it melt.

My confessions were heart-felt
Resulting in
Forms of pain -

Feeling only remorse
And with nothing to gain;
cart before horse.
My heart-feelings were shame.

Not good at games,
or with loops.

Wanting forward movement:


The past cannot own me.

...lesson learned...

But how many bridges burned?
How many mistakes?

When can I truly live well?
Pitied statue of an artist;
With her head in a cloud swell.
You draw back the curtains
on your personal hell.


Don’t you think I can tell?

When you’re sad
I can’t just say
“Oh well.”

It isn’t enough to break bad
(like you like)
The truth broke the spell.

Making a fist with my right hand,
Never breaking a real thing.
Money on the nightstand,


I know what kind of ring.
I would get.
For you.

Forget what I said to you.

No epithet.
Just “No!”

Lots of
“Oh baby, please don’t!”


With nothing to show,
For all that….

No blood on my hands yet,
But no further to go.

What’s allowed?

Could you trust me again?

I don’t know how.

Can the pain ever end?

I’m sorry,
Not right now.

Can’t we just start over this weekend?
We are friends…
Aren’t we….?
Deep down…?


You don’t need me.

You could easily concede me.

Write me off as a flawed soul.

It is true:
I am not whole.

I’ll have to set a new spiritual goal
Besides self-less love.
I can see that I’ve fucked up.

I can’t go back again.

I deserve this pain.

Too easily I forget.

Not appreciative of things yet.
(enough, anyways)
I have a ways to go.

There are not enough days
That I could
Ask you to waste
On me.

It’s best that you be free.

Beauty though I may be,
It’s all in the gaze.

True now and forever,

Even these days.

All of the best,

- Quin C. Greig