Lonely Heartbreaker

i am the lonely heartbreaker
i spend my time writing in this little book and testing my vision to see how far i can see
i look out on these mountains and big blue skies filled with clouds
and jinx myself
trying to figure out the why of everything when i should be
working out the how of this little universe of me
there are no mysteries greater than that
and nothing will come of a life spent tricking yourself into thinking you are more than this
looking in the bathroom mirror every morning
i am a cartoon character
and around me is a three dimensional world
i am stuck in a movie where i am the only thing that doesn’t know it’s in a movie
the shelved books i never read
all the rotting vegetables i will never eat
women i will never make love to
friends to who i owe apology but will never give that priveleged information that i am flawed and sad and
i remain an enigma to myself and to the vegetables i will never read, make love to or...

maybe i will make love to a vegetable today
or just look harder within myself
past the skin pocked and marred, cancer-riddled and gossamer thin
past the eyes set deeper than i ever remember seeing them
seeing sight, thinking thought, tasting my tongue, breathing
i may not be alone if i can find myself under all this rubble
that will be the day, the day when i die
thank you, buddy holly
i love you still despite everything
thick frames and gone away
i love you still buddy holly
all the blame and shame i carry to others’ graves
i may sell off to a local pawn shop to get that few bucks to spend
on a new pen and a new little book
so i can toss out the old one and write a new mystery i might never understand
about this, my foreshortened life