The Game I’ve Played

Mantra: “I can try.”

When it started,
I committed.
I didn’t back down.
She didn’t pull through for me,
but I didn’t quit.

We met.
A planned meeting.
I don’t know,
what I thought I’d do,
since I was otherwise

I didn’t want you to think
that I was unfaithful.
I’ll be damned
before I break
someone’s trust.

I’ve replayed every word,
and kicked myself every time.
It’s always a game.
The outcome
doesn’t look

But I’ve tried. I’ve tried a lot.

Somehow, you keep stealing my breath.

And I’ve been chanting this mantra
all along, hoping for anything at all.
I think either way, you’re gonna kill me.
I’ll agonize through silence,
and I can try, I can try—
not to love you.




base pairs and stacked rings.
the construction of the things
of the construction of ourselves.
helix, helix: a ladder of aromatix.
I’ll climb that code to reveal


can’t strip those genes,
can’t run that far.
can’t hide who YOU are.

(catch yourself being someone else.
  I’ll let it go; I understand.
  I’ll let it go, ‘cause I know.)



Who Are You?

maybe i’m taking you too seriously.
but you sure got a funny way of showing
	that you’re not.

are you unwilling to admit to me
	that you like what your peers do?
(or are you unwilling to admit to them
	that you don’t?)

i’m a toned-down version of myself around you,
but are you someone else when you’re with me?

who are you?

i swear you were a different person a year ago.
i’ve changed a lot, too, but no one’s asking,
	“where did you go?”

let me ask you that.
who are you, anyway?
who are you trying to portray?

i like who you are when we’re together,
but technology lets me see
	that maybe you’re not always that way.

(i’ll admit i’m a creep.)

i want to know you,
‘cause i think we’re trying to be friends.
so let me know:

who are you?