I’m a Fool for You, Baby

I’m a Fool for You, Baby

By Elizabeth Harper

We love as much, as well
as we are able, imperfect,
broken, yet doing
the best that we can,
which isn’t very good
at all.

We survive and dull the pain
as well as we are able,
by any means necessary,
by any means available:
alcohol, porn, heroin,
hero worship, ice cream,
donuts, chocolate, and
marshmallows—
looking for shapes
in the clouds
and meaning
on TV.

We get off on our egos
and our masochism. We
want to think we are
better than, or just
good enough, or at least
worth saving. We look for
reasons to not give up.

I’m drowning in sorrow,
in the salt water of my tears.
If only someone could love me.
If only I could believe in
and trust the ones that do.

What do you do when
your values and worldview
are at odds with the whole world
and everyone around you?
Do you dream of a zeitgeist
that could include you, of
an influence that will survive you?

Get up in the morning, or
in the afternoon, or in time
to make it to the bar
before last call. Cover
your wounds with band-aids,
your scars with makeup.
Smile. Look happy.
Pay attention. Feign interest.
Search for a kindred spirit.
Overshare and regret it later.
Second guess every interaction.
Wonder if there is an enemy
in every new fast friend.

Love will find you and leave you,
surprise you and befuddle you.
You do the best that you can do,
knowing it isn’t very good at all.
Love is hope and hope is for fools.
I’m a fool. I’m a fool for you, baby,
but I don’t know who you are.

Love Curse — Part IV

Love Curse — Part IV

Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 16, 2018

Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 16, 2018