Losing Me

I cannot keep track

of my mind.

last week I left it

in the pocket of my pants

on laundry day.

It came out crumpled;

not quite the same.

\that was bad enough

but it has happened before.

I have left it on buses and boats and trains

and once on the roof of my car,

while I drove away.

Sadly, I behave just as badly

with my heart.

Twice I have traded it


for flowers on my birthday

or kisses under mistletoe.

Once it was stolen.

Once it was broken.

Nothing a little crazy-glue couldn't mend.


I try to be more careful

but just yesterday I lost my temper too.

It flew out the window and flapped away.

How can I keep track of myself

when I am in so many pieces?

I am absent-minded in the extreme

but I keep myself entertained.

I may be broken-hearted

but I'm never bored.

Maybe there's a balance

I have yet to find;

some kind of filing system

(fist-sized padlocks and a stronger glue)

that will keep me safely together,

but I doubt it.

My mind likes a long leash

and my temper has a mind of its own

and my heart would suffocate

if I locked it away.

Maybe all this

wear and tear

losing and finding

loving and losing


is just a part

of living.

If there is another way

to be

I haven't learned it.