Ontology

I want to make it all ok—

to wrap my heart around your broken bones.

I want to be the cast in which you heal,

scribbled with loving names and sappy poems.

I want to be the drug that makes you feel

all the evil melt away.

But, maybe, I’m a bone breaker.

Maybe my squeezing crushes you.

Maybe I’m a constricting snake

putting pressure where I’ve no right to;

taking your life, which I don’t want to take

but, maybe . . . I’m a life taker.

Or maybe it’s not that dramatic.

I might be the mosquito that you can’t slap

but constantly buzzes in your ear;

or a florescent light that hums when you want to nap

that other times you cannot hear;

or a next-door T.V. playing static.

Worse yet, I might be just a man

who can listen and love but do little more;

a guy who doesn’t know what to say

but who feels with you when you’re tired and sore;

who wants to make it all ok

but doesn’t think that he really can.

That would be the worst, I think,

To find that I am just a man

Benjamin J. Cline

3/15/04