You knew me as a Pansy

he was in the circus. smarter than a pressed suit, but in baggy cargo shorts.

my toxic trait? possessing the personality of a low-fat snack.

he got struck by lighting, could see my aura. the death of an electric current never felt so exquisitely personal.

walking to feel something. my first and only manic episode. sometimes we must cry on our dorm room floors, lights dimming and glowing orange.

that was my aura. like benzodiazepines withdrawal, I craved the emotionally unavailable receptors of fate.

I wished for romantic Facebook relationship status updates. the magnitude of which can’t be measured because it’s only the internet.

I wander in disease. I wish neurons contained the multitudes that Whitman promised us. psychology is purely metaphorical.

he’s now thirty-two. I wonder if my aura still catches his eye. I wish for a different color, new and not bruised.

freedom is midnight quiet in a planter box. may I end up somewhere similar. in the dirt of my ancestors. I wish for my memory of him to be buried where the lightning hit.

starlight, star bright first star I see tonight -

I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.