soup for one

soft sadness descends
dread drips into every crevice
I am anxious and I don't know why

I split my brain
simultaneously seeing myself
from the outside in
I sneer and critique
every trite mechanism I employ
makes me sick

I wonder if I have any realness left
I wonder if my ability to conversate
has also left the building

I am sticky with sadness
I cling to any well wisher any
sign of affection and then I sneer
again

push off push away pushing myself down
I would rather sleep, than breathe
it is easier
so quiet in the darkness behind my lids

much better than the repeating defeat of
looking for that which is not there
no email no note no text no photo
I look and look again
Spam and discounts, groupons for love

I have piled up the expectations
heaped on my own shoulders
I believed my own hype
I'll believe it again soon enough
Maybe this time I won't be so cocky
I won't think: oh yeah, all that
I won't think: maybe the next one will be better
I won't think: I deserve more

Even though I do.
I deserve love without fear, it's true.
I want what any artist exploding with passion wants
to express, to emote, to feel with every cell

Careful.
Lest you explode all over your options.
Yes, bub -- I reassure myself -- pulling back from 11,
Fierce and fine is love
When it comes

Not the metered interview, not the self-doubting,
self-editing.
She didn't even burp.
It all feels like dishonesty to me. But this is it.
This is how it's done. Welcome to the Right Way.
We know it doesn't fit. Yes.
Keep moving.

Yes, it is hard to find someone with whom
casual conversation is authentically interesting
You may not stay here.
Wander on, just like you said you would.