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Scribblehead

In the silence
after we finished fighting
you grabbed your notebook

and in an hour,
drew a picture
of a girl
with a big black
ball of scribbles
for a head.

You stabbed her
with your finger
and you said

“Look, look,
this is me.

I am all tangled up.
I am messy,
I am a mess.

I cannot sort myself out.
I don’t know the way out
of this labyrinth head,”

and then you
threw your notebook down
and went to bed,
you left me to flip
through your sketches,

trying to think of a way
to tell you my poems
are self-portraits
with scribbles for heads, too.

This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
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