I am loved
I know it for
Daniel, the coffee shop boy
(where I’m a regular) treating me
like a genuine friend
while we exchange stories and smiles
and can confide in one another
I am loved
by my friends, my family,
who love me for being so
kind and genuine
with the tenderness of
their palms, or just a finger,
I'm touched deeply
I am loved
by my friend’s dog Patti
who kisses me when
I don’t want to be
by the birds who sing
and react when I sing,
sing with them
When he returns to his apartment there is a letter curled between the frame and the door-knob. He knows, without reading it, that it is from his ex. He takes it and enters.
He can sense his shadow, that enemy attached to him, surfacing. He feels its presence in the atmosphere his home, a presence that lingers like smoke from a gun. The letter in his hand threatens to be the next stack of ammunition. He sits at a small kitchen table, puts the letter down and rubs his hands against his temples. He strains, tightens and feels pressure growing between them. “Does she want me back?”
“Yeah right, like that’s ever going to happen,” the shadow's voice chides.
'She’ll never take me back,' he thinks. 'Why would she?'
“Because she actually cares about you,” the shadow says sarcastically. “Because she realizes how much you are suffering. Because she pities you. Ha!”
“Why would anybody want to love me? I mean seriously, I’m all fucked up. I’ve been fucked up since I can remember.” He says aloud.
“You idiot. You dumb stupid idiot. You sure are a real sad motherfucker. Nobody wants a weak lover, nobody wants to take care of you.”
“Stop. Just stop!” He pulls his hands from his head. He weeps.
When he is finished he takes a deep breath, sighing it out slow so that it hums a little. “You’ve
I know it for
Daniel, the coffee shop boy
(where I’m a regular) treating me
like a genuine friend
while we exchange stories and smiles
and can confide in one another
I am loved
by my friends, my family,
who love me for being so
kind and genuine
with the tenderness of
their palms, or just a finger,
I'm touched deeply
I am loved
by my friend’s dog Patti
who kisses me when
I don’t want to be
by the birds who sing
and react when I sing,
sing with them
When he returns to his apartment there is a letter curled between the frame and the door-knob. He knows, without reading it, that it is from his ex. He takes it and enters.
He can sense his shadow, that enemy attached to him, surfacing. He feels its presence in the atmosphere his home, a presence that lingers like smoke from a gun. The letter in his hand threatens to be the next stack of ammunition. He sits at a small kitchen table, puts the letter down and rubs his hands against his temples. He strains, tightens and feels pressure growing between them. “Does she want me back?”
“Yeah right, like that’s ever going to happen,” the shadow's voice chides.
'She’ll never take me back,' he thinks. 'Why would she?'
“Because she actually cares about you,” the shadow says sarcastically. “Because she realizes how much you are suffering. Because she pities you. Ha!”
“Why would anybody want to love me? I mean seriously, I’m all fucked up. I’ve been fucked up since I can remember.” He says aloud.
“You idiot. You dumb stupid idiot. You sure are a real sad motherfucker. Nobody wants a weak lover, nobody wants to take care of you.”
“Stop. Just stop!” He pulls his hands from his head. He weeps.
When he is finished he takes a deep breath, sighing it out slow so that it hums a little. “You’ve