poetry critical

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While That Hole Is Only Deep In The Center, You've Heard That Before

While my eyes, as pin points
were always ready to cry
"me me ME!"
My heart was never ready to give.
I just kept it hidden away
increasingly dormant inside myself
of who I really am.
The me that you claimed true love for.
A thief in me rose up
so angry
so forgetful
that I forget now
what your soft naked skin looks like
in the bathroom white light,
morning or night
running lotions and mascara over your
beautiful self
or getting ready for work
while I slept, passed out or sleeping in
you would strive, all drive in your heart
for a better future (together, once)
And I spent my entire self,
body, mind, heart....money.
I would claim it was crazy of you, for you.
But spun out, strung out
and soon alone at and all night
while you slept
or wept
It's not like the earth rotated for me,
but no one could see my shoulders
weren't exactly pushing along
the cogs and gears
of dirt, sky, and axis
that the tilt was only me,
balanced on one foot
unable to walk backwards
like you
So I learned to breathe fire
like love stewing in my gut
and I know that one day I will erupt
and our lands, distant as they may be
will burn
till we don't know who is who
charred, with only scattered teeth remaining
For I see a crucible in you
big as oceans
expansive as space,
you're the universe to me,
and I'm trapped in you indefinitely
able only to endure
But only so far
and/or back again as you'd say
I am in love,
sick or not,
and love is in me
running both deep and superficially-
I cannot hide it any longer,
it will cry, claw, and fight it's way out
I sometimes wish my heart weren't my core.
I often wish my logic were.
With my brain at the center of everything
holding my love captive
and cognitively away...
erputions would only happen
if it happened
to make sense
To purge emotion is to free myself from pain
Our love once spread like a raging wildfire
is now contained
to children in backyards
with garden hoses
and water balloons.
Nothing is mine, therefore nothing is lost
If I have to pluck you from cross and crucifix
(because someone has been praying for me, and I have scarred so beautifully)
I would still make my own salvation-
for I am a compass and map.
I am made of the same elements.
I have finally hit bottom
and I have nothing left to lose
If I have to go back to the depths and lonliness that is incarceration
at least I know I'll survive
and rise once more

19 Oct 11

(define the words in this poem)

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-to purge emotion is to free myself from pain
-nothing is mine, therefore nothing is lost

unknown to unknown, i see nothing else worth keeping

 — unknown