Absent Minded Love

Me:  are you mad that I love you?

You:  yes, it scares me.

Me:  if you prefer torture, i can love you to death (and you will die most happy and satisfied.)

You:  hmmm. dying seems easier than love.

Me:   dying is not easier, it is just not--living.  Love is scary because it makes you feel--alive.

You:  if i love you, i am afraid of...

Me:   being happy?

You:  i am conflicted.

Me: because, love-is-new-to-you.

You:  can you forget someone and still love them?

Me: why would you want to forget me? (but i think it can be done. if i try really hard, i can forget you and--still love you.)

You:  really?

Me:  yes, it is called Absent Minded Love.

You:  i want you to always remember me and to remind me what love is.  i will come find you tomorrow, just in case you forget to Find Me...

Me: (i can't wait for your tomorrow to be my today...)


When One Belives The Lie...

  the dream and dreamer--die.


(two poems inspired from my classroom observations)


*     *     *     *

Your Own
I Am the
You Dreamed me to be
But did not


I Am the
That disappeared
After the Lullaby you sang to me
Each night that I
Cried myself to sleep.


I am the Dose—one too many
That over did me and
The Two of You.


I was the Spark and the Flame that Burned with
and made you
Proud to call me Your Own.


But when you didn’t see me looking, I caught a Glimpse of the Two of You.
You Modeled me a Picture, I followed to a T.
And so, the Who of You I turned into, was never supposed to be…


My dreams have Died.  Now you sit by my side.
(the ventilators keep me breathing) yet I am not really Here.


Still, I can feel
Your tears wet my withered flesh.


And you sing to me
One Last Time…
The Lullaby from when I was still
*     *     *     *
(Sweet 16)
I am a
10th grader.
Gender, unrecognizable to my
Perhaps to you as well.
Do you See Who I Am?


(I don’t either)


I want to cry, but I forgot


I am constantly castigated with depraved, yet familiar voices; adamant
Faces, crowding and raping my
Voices. Faces.  The Albatross around my heart, keeps me from


I am only 16 years old.  Struggling in a Society that holds no room for autonomy,
Only antipathy and


(emerson knew this too)


I am a 10th grader.
I want
The Self-Reliant kind.
I am a Barrage of feeling-less


If I could remember what it felt like to not be
I guess I would know that I was


I crave to be seen with
Candor, Ebullience and


If I could see All that I Am
Without the Noises, faces and Words—
Who Do You Think would be revealed to me?
(you are right.)


I would be…



Copyright © 2004 by R.A. Leslie. All  rights reserved. Contact R.A. Leslie @ www.raleslie.com for further information