So occasionally I've done some things that...well, I'm not so proud of. I've treated people with less consideration than I could have. And I'm not proud of that. I wish I could take some actions back, but I guess the second best thing is to just do choose differently the next time around. I wrote this poem last year, about someone who cared very much for me when I just couldn't care back. I didn't want to post it in case he came by, but I think it's safe to say that over a year later, he's not checking up on me.

"Sunday"

I.

We spent the day
holding hands
and walking
in the Los Angeles Zoo
like a couple of
Grade A Saps
laughing at the sea otters
as one showed off
his tricks
backflips in and out of the water
and the other became aggressive with him
for more attention from the crowd

II.

We ate a late lunch
of burgers and shakes
back at my apartment,
then got into bed
at 6pm,
where we stayed
napping, talking and touching
until midnight came
and you told me
you loved me
for the first time.

III.

When you tell me
I reel,
mouth paralyzed,
knowing I should
say something
back
but nothing comes
and nothing comes.
I kiss you
to diminish the silence
but the sweat on your upper lip
tells me you gave it your all
and I'm not going to
distract you
with a somersault
or two.

IV.

I was going to break your heart
one way or another.
Every time I look at you
I see an end that is inevitably
and rapidly approaching.

My only sadness is in seeing your smile
so full and bright
when you look at me
and say
you've never been happier.

It explains that dream I had
where I cradled a tiny
white lamb
in my arms
and carried it
to the slaughter house
cooing
all the way.