(jch -- 11/22/97)
it’s insane
the things you think of
& what the loneliness will make you do
the unconscious mind
& what it tells you
in your darkest hours;
the stillness,
when the light on the power line
casts a shadow over my fears,
the face in the window,
& the voices underneath the door
or the memories,
the way she looked at me tonight
& what i should have told her;
the words haunt me,
the words that came to me
after i walked out,
words that would have meant something
in their moment
before that moment slipped away

& as i walk these rain-slicked streets,
i think of you,
your smile the first time you saw me
& the way your hair falls down in your eyes
when you pretend not to notice me
& all this troubles me
in times like this
when i’m alone
slowly going mad
here in the dim shade
of the light on the power line

and i don't know why
i’m still alone

i’m still alive

i'd love to be loved

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