Lately poem seems to be half written
before being abandoned
    and I do not why.
There is an ache in the pit of stomach
from not eating properly because as it turns out
irony does not taste so sweet after all.

I do not understand why I find it so hard to chew down food
but perhaps it has something to do with
my teeth which are now little yellow stumps
from grinding them too hard.
They have become rotting pearls of history
telling of an unwanted devotion to something
lost a long time ago that now causes me to bite down
hard in stress.

All I ever really wanted was to make you
                

smile

but it seems that I turned my insides outside to no avail
and now this sickness has eaten me up
gobbled into submission
I now no longer know where I end
and the chain begins.

You take another gulp and my stomach wrenches,
My hair pulls at the scalp and I know that it will be in your rings when you pull away
If you pull away.
I think about a poem I almost started yesterday
and wonder if you will break my fingers
or let me write again.
I never dreamed that I could meet somebody like you
but then again

I never dreamed that I could still fall in love.