The Sickness

It's that tense and queasy feeling
My heart begins to pound
And my face begins to tighten
As my fists begin to clench
But I'm not looking for a face to punch
Or a wall to put a hole in
It's just the sickness that I feel
When I feel anything for you.

It's the loss of any appetite for anything but anger
The loss of any taste for anything not bitter
The ever-growing craving for a stew of lamentations
Starvation for attention from another false friend
It's the sickness that I feel when I think about you
When I think about the ways you spent my time
When I think about the waste of time you proved yourself to be
Again, I feel the sickness.

It's the paranoia when I make a new acquaintance
For a new acquaintance cannot possibly become an ally
The depression when I realize how long I let you fool me
The anxiety when I wonder who else is fooling me
The unwillingness of this fool to face a world of foolers
It's the sickness that I feel when I see or hear your name
It's the sickness that I feel when I remember our good times
For I see now that our good times were never quite so good
Neither is the way you make me feel today.

It's the restlessness, the yearning to see welcoming faces
It's the emptiness inside which I cannot fill alone
It's the weariness of wariness
The loneliness
The readiness
The readiness to feed my needs
The readiness to need again
The readiness for openness with just a hint of cautiousness
It's a whole new kind of sickness
For you've made me sick and make me sick
It's the sickness
For I'm sick
Of being sick.

Seekers

You and I, we're seekers
Every day of our lives a quest
Searching our souls, searching the world
Yet sometimes, there's only so much to discover

And we may never find what we're looking for
And we may never find what to look for
But you and I have found each other
And that's got to be worth something.

You and I, we're doers
But at times, all we do is wonder what to do
"What to do, what to do?" -- the eternal question
A question whose answer keeps running away

And we may never find the answer
And if we do, we may wish we hadn't
But you and I have found each other
And we never wish we hadn't.

You and I, we're thinkers
But sometimes, our thoughts distress us
For it's impossible to ponder the mysteries of life
Without remembering both the light and the shade

And we may not always like what we think
If we can bring ourselves to think at all
But I think about you, and you think about me
So thinking cannot be all bad.

And we may never find the answer
And if we do, we may wish we hadn't
But you and I have found each other
And we never wish we hadn't.

And we may never find what we're looking for
And we may never find what to look for
But you and I have found each other
And that's definitely worth something.

I'm Fascinated

I'm fascinated by the words you say
I'm fascinated that a single thought of you can make my day.

I'm amazed by every little feeling
I'm amazed that a single touch of you can be so healing.

I'm fascinated by the way a gentle tap
Can pull me back when I'm about to snap.

I'm in awe of the way one kind embrace
Can brighten the expression on my face.

I'm fascinated by one little kiss
I'm fascinated that one little kiss can bring such bliss.

The comfort that I feel just being near you
The comfort that it brings to see or hear you.

I'm fascinated that a simple, wordless gesture
Can soothe me more than anyone can measure.

I'm fascinated by the glow you've painted on me
I'm fascinated by the light you shine upon me.

Running Gag

A runaway slave, an illegal alien, and a terrorist walk into a bar.
The bartender asks, "What'll you guys have?"
The runaway slave says, "Freedom."
The illegal alien says, "Rights."
The terrorist says, "Both."
The bartender replies, "Too bad. We don't serve outlaws."
He asks the militia if they'd like another round.

The runaway slave, the illegal alien, and the terrorist go to another bar.
They settle in at a table.
The server asks them to leave.
"We can't," the terrorist protests. "We were about to order a bottle of your finest."
The server looks at the runaway slave. "You want the finest...before we execute you?"
She looks at the illegal alien. "You'd steal it like you stole our jobs."
She looks at the terrorist. "You'd make a bomb out of the bottle."
In comes a group of rowdy hockey fans.
The server asks the slave, the illegal, and the terrorist, "Please vacate this table so we can accommodate these lovely gentlemen."

My Black brother, my Latino brother, and I go to yet another bar.
Our White brother the bartender greets us with a "What's up?"
My Black brother orders freedom.
My Latino brother orders rights.
I order both.
The bartender replies, "Coming right up!"
He pours himself a shot of love when his boss isn't looking.
"Brothers," he says, "a toast."
And we don't know why, but we clink glasses with him.
We don't know why...but then again, we do.

The following night, a runaway slave, an illegal alien, and a terrorist walk into a bar...

How Convenient

He doesn't post the pictures online
Except the ones which look "just friendly."
And he identifies him as his "friend"
Lest his relatives back home find out he's that way...

She doesn't give away too much
When her boss asks what she did this weekend.
"I went out," she says.
When asked with whom, she replies, "A friend."
For if she says, "My girlfriend," she's gained a lover -- but lost a job.
And the law is just fine with that.

The law is just fine with both of them being out on their asses
Unemployed
Homeless
Fired
Evicted
For being that way.

He meets him for a concert.
She meets her for dinner.
But he doesn't dance with him
And she doesn't hold her hand.
No need to tempt the bashers
So they stay bashful
To avoid being bashed.

What they do behind closed doors is nobody's business...
That is to say, nobody needs to hear about it.
Nobody wants to hear about it.
What they do behind closed doors is nobody's business
So they do it behind closed doors.

He lays his tired body on the mattress.
She lays her weariness beside his.
And once again, they resign themselves to the ruse they perpetrate
And perpetuate
To please his boss' old-fashioned tastes
To suit her company's traditional image
To put their landlord's narrow mind at ease.
"Goodnight, husband," she chuckles.
"Goodnight, wife," he sneers.

How convenient.