Wasted Proposition

love is not a student.
and you are no teacher.
you cannot teach me.
i am free.Freedom is
an incurable jerk.
I jerk off, alone with my
nerves.
In the house, this door
is closed.
The windows gossip.
my shoes are growing
moss.
my shirt is eaten by
snails.
the stars on my roof
are fake
earrings

mother is beautiful
she is a faded picture of
a family memory.

they avoid this kind
of confrontation.
it is not essential.

what is essential? i ask that too.
all i have are branded
as accessories.

that was a good movie.
the line ends:

do not ever think about loving me.
i am wasted.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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