by Kyrsten Bean
It’s not rocket science, you say
I may be wrong, but I think
you never really wanted me that way
There’s no point, you explain
we should just call each other
once in a while
friends
Can we ever hang out?
I whisper
my voice eludes me
Yeah, you say
I’ll be in LA
Give me a call if
you’re ever in town
I’m going to let you go
I’m letting it all go, you say
know what I mean, jellybean?
OK
I say, then
did I push you away?
I never really felt I was let in
you lament
your voice is gentle
and reassuring in the distance
before you hang up
Showing posts with label Kyrsten Bean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kyrsten Bean. Show all posts
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Wondering
by Kyrsten Bean
I am thinking of all the ghosts I know
who are still alive
and I wonder if they are watching me or
if I’ve become a faint blip on their radar
I am another person inside this person inside this person
nested like Russian dolls
open one and you get another and another and another
and there are so many pieces of me smashed across the continent
we are missing smashed pieces our entire lives
and we can never recreate the whole glass bottle
because someone up there or out there has the pieces in their hands
is holding them. Is laughing.
But what do I have if not this: This attempt
what I had, what I did
so many pauses and starts
so many fits and gasps
Everything falls inevitably
cherry blossoming to the ground
And I spin through this bourgeois world wondering
And I spin through this bourgeois world wondering
I am thinking of all the ghosts I know
who are still alive
and I wonder if they are watching me or
if I’ve become a faint blip on their radar
I am another person inside this person inside this person
nested like Russian dolls
open one and you get another and another and another
and there are so many pieces of me smashed across the continent
we are missing smashed pieces our entire lives
and we can never recreate the whole glass bottle
because someone up there or out there has the pieces in their hands
is holding them. Is laughing.
But what do I have if not this: This attempt
what I had, what I did
so many pauses and starts
so many fits and gasps
Everything falls inevitably
cherry blossoming to the ground
And I spin through this bourgeois world wondering
And I spin through this bourgeois world wondering
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