fat

i am aperaham lincoln, i am unable to speak
i meditate and thoughts crop up like weeds
email dad, email rachael, email amanda
i cried today while meditating, thinking, i am a bad son
not that i think i’m a bad son, just i could be better
thinking about flying kites w/ my dad & how it bored me
thinking about kites in skies i can’t remember
not that i think i’m a bad son, i don’t think i am, but i could be better
just that i cried while thinking abt emailng my dad, saying, i wish i was a better son
i am aperaham lincoln, i am unable to speak
my voice box rotted in the ground a long time ago
it’s strange that annette messaged me out of the blue
she said i am compassionate & good
the truth is i’ve never felt more alone
just kick the shit out of me what kind of world is this?
philip seymour hoffman died, put a needle in his arm
I DO NOT HAVE ANYONE I SHARE MY LIFE WITH
AND IN THAT WAY I AM ALONE
DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW???
it’s not about me. i broke my rule which is: don’t want people to do something.
i had this moment, a sad realization: i shouldn’t give myself to people because it’s pain.
i’m not being direct how i like. i don’t want to bore you. i want to smile more.
act 3 or is it act 5? is honesty
i want someone to call me & spill my fucking guts out
my corpse is getting fat because i haven’t been spilling my guts
pardon me? pardon me? i’ve seen so many commercials.
i hear the same noise over and over. i’ve failed.
i used to be a bad friend & it’s ruined me.
now i have ZERO FRIENDS. ZERO LOVERS. ZERO ZERO ZERO.
i wish my name was ZERO. i wish my name was abraham.

by Paul Hanson Clark