i said lack of desire lack of libido lack of excitement lack of zest, zest for living, remember the pill i take every morning,
and how it cuts off the edges, gives itself plenty of play in the equations.
which leaves me in a blissed middleground where nothing's wrong but i guess
i'll never be very excited about the possibilities, either.
and it's not numb, i can be happy and sad, and i can appreciate things, and see
how this and that is beautiful, but i don't fall in love with much of anything anymore
and that's the thing: i don't fall in love anymore and maybe won't for years
and i'm looking for a reason why
i cried a lot more when i functioned on my own chemicals
in my new twentysomething world
where i learned to be myself, by myself, all of the time
learned to be myself by myself and became a crying expert,
separated from everything i had wanted
it was a violent necessity and my world was so narrow,
pathetically selfabsorbed and an embarrassment to my own ideals
but i got stronger and by now i'm a sensitive machine of self
sufficiency, noble enough to be respected but not
exactly taking myself or anyone by storm
not exactly a thrill a minute not exactly passionate
not nearly passionate, passionate like sixteen and seventeen
teenage hormones, not anything but cold science, cold biology
not really optimistic or pessimistic,
but just wondering, and wondering what am i to blame?