Here it's been more than a year and I haven't thought of You
Since I wrote my next-to-last poem Easter
My life has changed a lot since then
But I'm still the same
In fact I wanted to become a painter
Here are the paintings I've done they're hanging from the walls this evening
They opened me up to strange sights inside myself which made me think of You
Christ
Life
Look what I've scraped up
My paintings hurt me
I'm too passionate
Everything has turned orange
I spent a sad day thinking about my friends
And reading the daily
Christ
Life crucified in the wide?open daily I'm holding arms stretched
Wingspan
Rockets
Boiling
Howls.
They'll say it's an airplane falling
It's me.
Passion
Fire
Serial-novel
Journal
It's pointless not to want to talk about yourself
Sometimes you have to holler
I'm the other
Too sensitive