The Lonely Position of Neutral

The Truth Of My Youth

I'm lying on a hospital bed

for being unwanted.

The cancer racing through my veins

is everything that I've been trying to find.

No more kissing in the car.

No more undivided time.

Ah...I think it's the lorazepam

doing the talking,

and her doing the thinking.

I didn't know her name then,

but I do now: Jenny.

Dreams of a first kiss,

would I miss it for the world?

Jenny's my dream girl,

and she's in the same hospital.

I was a foster kid that no one wanted,

which burst bubbles of a revisionist future,

looking back at memories that explode

under a thought, not a feeling.

I crashed into reality

with a tired head—full of crushed rocks.

I washed my fears with her tears

and exploded my self-doubt with our first kiss,

kissing, she loves me knots to death.

Too lonely to die.

Too brave to die.

Too cowardly to live.

Too loving to die.

I'd waltz across the room,

but my body won't carry me,

twisting the knife in my guts

with pins.

This IV keeps reminding me

of my mistakes, keeping me alive

because I've got kissing to do.

The lonely position of neutral

grinds on my nerves as I start

treating my bald head with lotion

and getting ready to take my last breath

and taste my last kiss under a thought,

not a feeling.

Am I going to die or pass away?

I can see color,

and the smell of Jenny's skin

has never been so sweet.

My head fogs, crashing into love

at first sight.

A kiss on my lips forms a thought

under a feeling.

Crashing into parked cars on Sundays.

Flashing roses under a kiss,

not a breath.

Crashing sideways into neutral aggregation.

Keeping a dream alive without hope exposes

the truth of my youth.

The lonely position of neutral sings

a dream under a thought, not a feeling.

The truth of my youth exposes the failures

of my mother.

Jenny looked at me and bit her tongue.

I bet the thought of kissing the wind,

missing her lips and watching a chick flick.

Fuck this shit. I can't die.

I slammed my eyes open.

Jenny's kissing my lips

as if her last breath were drawing near.