IAM

It hurts sometimes
to hear you’re sad
and there’s nothing I can do about it
not because I am not a good and caring person
but because you don’t know me
and don’t know what I would do
to improve your lot
which is everything.

I would stop following other women.
I would dance like a fool
– more of a fool
than what got me arrested
as a post-grad.
I would look for the boyfriends
that made you cry and purposefully
pointedly poke them in the eye
and then not run away,
but stand proudly
awaiting the beating
they could finally direct
at one more deserving.

I would joke for you.
I would work for you.
I would introduce you to better boys
so you could quality compare
and allow them time
but hope that you would see
that none would care for you
quite so much as me.

I love you
from this distance
and if you know it
you probably think it’s something creepy
and small
but it’s big.
It’s bigger than my ribcage.
It’s bigger than my lungs.
It’s bigger than all the times I’ve ever had lunch return on me
and, considering the kind of crap I eat,
that’s huge.

I want you to know
that I would never allow you to be sad
if there was something I could do about it.
Also
I want you to know
who I am.