Let's just eliminate all the bullshit, shall we?

Friday, August 21, 2009


I say to myself,
"Self...I really think
you have a lot to offer.
It's too bad no one else
seems to think so."

And I convince myself
that my insides are transparent
to the world outside.
Surely my needs,
like the truths of the
Declaration of Independence,
are self-evident.
Independence has a price,
like all great notions.

I sit alone and contemplate
my aloneness
as a point of some irksomeness,
but the thought of leaving home
and being around others
is irritating, too.

There may never be another
who 'gets' all my jokes,
who finds all my flavors tasty,
who wants to lend a hand
even when I might not know
I really need one.
Who told me that this partner
I seek
is external, anyway?

I have become aware of my own
precociousness, arrogance,
insolence, self-pity, isolativeness,
and more.
I also am equally sure there are
untold additional perks of which
I am still unaware.
But still I need love.
I find myself adorable and delightful,

(You, on the other hand,
have serious fucking problems
and personality quirks.
It somehow seems so clear.)

The call of the familiar and the old
is so alluring,
even with the empty house
and the sleepless nights
and the echoing endless thoughts
and the lack of human voices
and touch.
My soul,
how long since
a warm embrace.

I know I must first
embrace myself
before another can do same,
before I am ready
to offer something true
to another.
Today I wonder,
"Will my entire life
be preparing
for a moment
I never can achieve?"

What the hell's so great about
inclusion anyway?
Screw e-harmony and
be damned.
Like the man
said, "I didn't want to
join, anyway."
I don't need matching t-shirts,
a logo, an i.d. card,
or a false idol.

I remain ever enchanted
by the surly
and sullen and stand-offish,
my real needs,
despite 20 years of therapy,
common sense.
The past patterns us well,
and being disregarded
was well imprinted
on me.

Every day
I seek
to end that servitude,
to cruelties ancient
and self-perpetuated.
Today being alone is
a burden
on my heart.
Tomorrow it may be
a blessing from above.

how could I subject
somebody else
to all this drama?

by Robert Sayre, II

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