By Brandon Shane
When I think too much, my head becomes hot,
and eyes become blurry windows no-one can clean.
I do my best to keep life mellow because my mind
has brought me seizures when the pot begins to sing,
so I am unusually calm, and sometimes people think
I’m cool because of it, or heartlessly apathetic, none
is true. It’s a defense mechanism to stay somewhere
safe in the middle, and this is strange when bad things
happen, I’ll see myself out and they’ll wonder if ever
cared, little did they know, I am too passionate &
that’s why the door is open, and I gently glide it home,
where no one can hear the metal hit the poor frame.
Who am I? Amorphous to be sure, coffee and the pen
is one constant which has never changed. But,
I wonder who I’d be if I weren’t me & then I realize,
there has never been such a thing. The mirror is odd,
it shows so little of who I am, malleable flesh, bone,
cotton, and the jester brain is there beside me,
flipping through a book of unrelated memories.
I love most of you, but that’s how it’s meant to be,
like soulmates who fight over minute things. I’ll
learn to live with your eccentricities; Dear Me.
Brandon Shane is an alum of California State University, Long Beach, where he majored in English. He’s pursuing an MFA while working as a writing instructor and substitute teacher. Born in Yokosuka Japan, he is now a resident of San Diego. You can see his work in Acropolis Journal, Grim & Gilded, Livina Press, Bitterleaf Books, Remington Review, Salmon Creek Journal, BarBar Literary Magazine, Discretionary Love, among others. Find him on Twitter @Ruishanewrites
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