Recklessly I pried you open, raped your private words. How did I excuse my violation? You watched me attach to you, barnacle-like, then you told me that you couldn't love me back. Now you improbably walk the streets of L.A., march for immigrants' rights, attend videogame conventions. Is your soul haunting me through these men? Did one of your speed-racer tricks finally end your drifting life? Once read, I broke our grip. These men who look like you— bodies I will never cling to, journals I will never read.
I wrote this poem around 2003 about a relationship gone awry.