I'll never be anyone's mermaid.

Remember how you found me
Under a low bent half moon
I must have been singing to you
I've never left the water
But I once knew some flying fish
Thought I'd forget how to swim
I am your mermaid
I give to you freely
But soon as you see me I'm gone
I am your mermaid
Tangled but blissful
Knock me a kissful of nectar, honey
The water is hot and you hold my head
The sores of the day slip through the shore's threads
I'd never felt such rapture
A glimpse at the lighthouse
Undo myself from your hanging mouth
I am your mermaid
Tangled but blissful
Knock me a kissful of nectar, honey
I am your mermaid
I'll open your mortal need
You planted your opal seed of love
I am your mermaid

I had the answer long ago.

The last time I saw you, you were walking away. You looked back at me like it was the last time you would ever see me. I knew you weren't coming. I looked after you like it was the last time I would ever see you. I was right. Wake up and breathe, wake up and breathe. I had that empty feeling like too much caffeine and no sleep. A dry throat, crusty, tired eyes. I made coffee at two a.m so the apartment wouldn't feel so empty, so that I could stop thinking of the smell of you. All you ever did was tell me I was a statue, I was a statue. Was I on a pedestal? But I have a heart, it's beating inside of me--even though that time we slept together you said you couldn't hear anything. There was only silence between us. Was that the problem? You didn't want to hear. We had a great and perfect farewell.

Now I want to slip back to three year ago, many years ago. Slip in and out of white washed galleries where men and women stared at us like we were statues, like we were perfect slim beings that God had created. We don't believe in God. We don't believe in art. We just believe in breathing. Wake up and breathe. You were so wrong. I was so wrong. I had found love long ago. But I don't believe in love now.

I refuse.

This day will be the day that I finally give up on you.

Once, once
I would have laid down and died for you.
But not anymore.

I don't actually think I would have done this. But it's nice to think you'd sacrifice yourself for someone. Maybe someday. I hate guessing. I wanna know! And I hate bringing a different guy every year to the Christmas party. I'm celibate officially.

I'm a one man guy now. And proud of it!

Macaroni

Sometimes I just want to be touched. Like a surprise phone conversation or a letter or an email. Nothing complicated. But they wouldn't touch me with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.