I have nothing worthwhile;
no witty social commentary on having tits,
no uncomfortable, pithy metaphor for pain.
i can't write about girls who are sugary with nose rings.
i won't write about how the law of proximity smothers
meaningful relationships, robbing them of dignity,
attaching them to machines and inserting
polite but awkward laughs in social situations.
No soft light street lamp talk;
i sure as hell wont' croon about cherry blossoms
and carbon based beings.
I won't because i can't.
Today, i have nothing worthwhile -
except for a quiet black cat
breathing on my lap; curled like a
And a blue eyed boy who won't
let optimism die with the day, who says he
loves the fuck out of me.