loving is a dangerous thing to do

loving is a dangerous thing to do

even in small amounts

every expansion and every release

comes with a stronger contraction of doubt

this is the best that i can do-

considering all

(considering all)

words that have been rehearsed and said

are very easy to say again

and the deeds, they speak for themselves

but then

an uncomfortable descent

(Morrison knew)

a reckoning with some rusted memory box

an urge to apologize 

incessant chattering, clarifying nothing

lonely for the lie

for all of my attempts

my best won't be enough

again

the offering is exhausting  

giving away your tells
opening up your insides to an unforgiving,

harsh light scrutiny

(repulsive)

it's hard to remember what

it feels like, now

to have laid it all bare and to still be there

or how it ever felt right before

rusted

rust and grey- a winter array

you knew that this was coming

resting consuming investing clothing stepping growing saving asking looking toning cutting watching moving knowing

a critical voice wakes me up in a panic

from some happy dream

not sure quite how to get myself there anymore-

what i like from your face, what i trust in your core

not sure quite how

when there's nothing at stake

when there's no keeping and nothing to lose

i don't know how to believe 

that someone's words might match their deeds

so i won't assume and i won't wager,

keep myself safe from all those

obvious dangers

let's not even talk about next year

it is still in between the head and the heart

but it's nothing like a home

go to bed and wrestle that subconscious part

tomorrow, wake up alone