Care Less

I know
I’m missing
but I don’t
know what
it is until
you fit
against me
and then
I remember
the parts of
myself I gave
to you or you
took from me.
I forget how
it happened
and I could
care less.


By Accident

I roll over
into you
by accident.

Forgetting you
were ever there
and then again.


I want to
be with you


to share
this space
for a few

or does it
mean more
and when?

I don’t want
to puzzle it out
with you or

so I just roll over
and right into you
by accident.


Our Place Apart (Reassembled)

“I like the way you fit,” I say, fiddling with the cords of the blanket thrown over my lap. “Into my life.”

“Well, good,” you laugh, running your hands across your face in an attempt to wake up from the half-nightmare your life resembles. I’m always here. I’ve taken to sitting on the couch cross-stitching the days away, if you can believe it. And sometimes I think you’re not here with me, but I won’t go where you go. I consider stoking the fire to shake the idea from my mind, but then reconsider. And I wonder – as always, how the heat seems to emanate right from you, as well as the light.

It’s almost spring outside the sitting room window, and we’ve taken to standing right in front of it, ready to wave at any nosy passerby and giggle as we gossip about their gossiping. Everything in and around us has found its perfect place once again, and the sitting room is quiet beyond the crackling of the fire and the companionable silence.

“I like the way you fit, too,” you say, smiling into my hair as you wrap me up into a bear hug and then throw us both down onto the couch. And we just lie there, comfortable. After what seems like an afternoon, as the light fades outside the sitting room window and brightens in the space between us, I poke you until you get up to add another log to the fire.

I watch you watching it dance, and know that while most people in this moment would say, “What are you thinking?”, I don’t have to. I wish you could see more of yourself in it, as I do. I don’t want you to leave this moment, this place, or this feeling.

“Let’s burn the curtains!” I say. You turn your gaze to me, eyes reflected with fire, and you laugh.


Our Place Apart
Our Place Apart (Again)
Our Place Apart (At Last)
Our Place Apart (Rebuilt)
Our Place Apart (Protected)
Our Place Apart (Remodeled)



It’s not me,
it’s you.

And I don’t
want to talk
about it and
I don’t want
to understand
why and no
I don’t want
to forgive you.

I will never
forgive you.

It’s not
about me.
Don’t act
as if it
ever was.

You have
it all.

You act
as if you
have nothing
but the truth
is you have
it all.

So just take it
and go please
just take it
and go and
leave me
It’s not supposed to be a game but that’s what you make it and no one but you could ever win but you won’t stop accusing everyone else of not playing fair. And I don’t want to play anymore.



I know it doesn’t
last and I won’t
pretend you’re
a long term solution
to this constant problem

but please

just make it
easier to take

for a few
more days
at least

when will
you come
and make it
more bearable?