heart shaped box

thanks, cobain, for the title.

water has gathered on the windows
whiile we slept; its fog mutes baby
blue morning sky, dog shit covered kelly
green grass of the house next door.
i draw a heart in the center
of the upper panes of both.
it looks childish, non symmetrical, more
like an actual heart's imbalance
than valentine perfection. i consider
drawing an arrow through each of them
but i don't want to make prophecies
that need to fulfill. love hurts, yeah
but i don't want to court that bitch.




*//*




















after fights  i must scroll up
the  page to find whtespace, silence .
shadows of palms waver , a caged bird
calls help help help, traffic
out on sheldon road picks up. you are
in your office or dead, panic attack either way.
i try to muster up reaction to either of these
scenarios and find i can't imagine the second
not really. no matter the brutality of your attack
it wasn't physical so i can't see how badly
it hurts. sciatica wins that battle every time.
any way they say scar tissue has no nerves
so my past training in marriage serves me well
when it comes to whiting out the ways
we should not be together. your arms
your hands your caress washes aches
from my body like a sacrament.
i savor the addiction,























*






the day warms. mist melts
from the panes , outside becomes
 more clear. the heart melts.

cat scratch feverish
i need a shower. day starts
early, without me.

could i choose, a box
would be escaped, recycled.
the lid won't open.