Two poems that were originally one, but I felt they had to be split. But like Siamese twins, they can't really do without eachother

Punching the wall.

Not hard enough to bleed

But enough to make me worry.

I would not lick them dry,

But I'd want to,

and we both know ninety percent of this affair is internal.

We sauntered away, into the day (too bright)

I'd prefer to curl up under your wings

But the tension's too palpable for that nonsense.

If I was someone else, I'd press myself to you.

Bite your neck and make you a man.

But I'm not her, despite your two-way mirror,

and I never will be.

But you say you still want me...

So we move on.


Too rooted.

Not free enough to dream like winners.

But there's something there...

A spy in the pitch drowning black

I only know he's there because I feel it.

I know you feel it too.

He has cat's eyes I believe...

it's a notion I've made up but it seems to fit, don't you think?

I want this storm to pass

With my esteem still in tact.

How can something so destined to be,

feel so unromantic when written down for me.

Over-analyst,

you conquer me again.