I censored a poem tonight.
I cut away the words that let you see into my heart.
The pen I used left drops of inky blood across the page
and slashed my suckling verse.
I killed my thoughts tonight.
I chased away the gentle lines of tenderness and hope,
of happiness from nothing more than being in one place,
of breathing in your air.
I shut the door tonight.
I tried to keep it locked against my stubborn loving faith
but even steel can’t keep my banished dreams from slipping through.
They're in my head and heart if not escaping from my pen
or spilling in unguarded moments on this public page
but I'll pretend they're gone and I won't speak of bread and cheese
and tea and films and eggplant and a party for my friends
or think of how you warmed me when you shared my happy bed.
I think I'll up my meds.