Fragments 2

It rained the whole time.
Here’s to wishing you were here?
My lonely postcard.

Teeth and lips and cheeks
Gracing bipolar mood swings.
Your smile unfed.

Teenage string fragments,
Juvenile hiding truth—
“Who will I become?”

Wasted acrylics,
tasteless nudes on the sofa—
Artist’s studio?

There and then taken,
Nighttime child in sandbox.
An abyss unknown.

On my two short sleeves,
A forget-me-not stapled.
An old bloodstained shirt.

Be stoner happy,
Surrendering to the void—
A wave on my rock.

Boys are promised “more”
when they kiss girls on the lips.
What if she kissed ME?

My sex drive is hell.
I Need it! Need it! NEED it!
Yet can’t get enough.

--Porter Daryl's Poems
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