rough edges

Standard

sometimes i think if i stare at
your picture long enough that maybe
i’ll finally exorcise this demon out
of my brain, you know?
maybe you’ll become two-dimensional
and i’ll be able to file you away
into a photo album of memories
you’ll become flat and remote and
rough around the edges
maybe if i stare at this picture of you
long enough it’ll be like when i was
a kid and my best friend and i
would stare into mirrors reciting
chants and curses she learned on the
catholic school playground that were
supposed to call up apparitions and saints
maybe you’ll appear before me and i’ll
say the magic words to make you
leave this mess my brain is in

you’re like the friends who say they’ll call
and then don’t
you’re like the boys who say they want you
but won’t
you’re like the piece of the puzzle
that fell between the counter and the stove
or my house keys when i’m
on my way out the door
i’m looking for a friday night smile
on a face i know will only blink
i’m looking for a glance of connection
in a brain that swirls like a bathroom sink
and i sit here confined by hestitation
wondering how long i can last
reading months of innuendos and
peeking at passages too far in the past

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