the razor edge
between
understanding
and acceptance
may as well
be an infinite chasm
when each breath
is embraced by
frozen barbwire

barrelling
blindly down an
unmarked series
of one ways
and all there are
at the end of
each is blank wall
so i scrawl the
names of the ladies
i disappointed by
never managing to
be worthy of their
love in return
to mark my passage

i am tired
and my heart hurts
so you’ll have to
excuse me while i
curl into a ball
and give up
just for a while