i have to remember
all the things that
were bad
are bad
i need strength to
move on from here
i have to consider
that i am not in
your thoughts
in any way
i need to be resolute
to sit on my hands
to bite my tongue
i have to decide
to accept the fact that
you will continue to use me
if i let you
Showing posts with label mistakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mistakes. Show all posts
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
On sympathetic friends
Him:
URGENT!!! HE'S STILL HERE!! HOW DO I GET RID OF HIM?? HELP!!
Me:
Tell him you have the AIDS
Him:
WHAT??
Me:
Ok, ok, crabs then
Him:
That's not funny.
Me:
I dunno, I'm laughing....
URGENT!!! HE'S STILL HERE!! HOW DO I GET RID OF HIM?? HELP!!
Me:
Tell him you have the AIDS
Him:
WHAT??
Me:
Ok, ok, crabs then
Him:
That's not funny.
Me:
I dunno, I'm laughing....
Morning
I wake.
It's a quarter before the alarm
breaks fitful sleep.
I stretch-
then remember that
I'm not alone here.
Quietly
softly
I wriggle from tether
and creep to the bathroom...
this floor creaks.
I laid it all out there
the blubber
the penchant for
unmatched socks-
the scars
the lined up vials on the counter...
the space mask
the unwashed dishes
the magazines under the chair...
the book was found and unmentioned even.
I stood with arms crossed-defiant
door slightly ajar-waiting
and yet...
I declined to talk about it-
tired of talk-
of introspection-
so instead we laughed
and ate the ice cream I made
and listened to that awful crackle
his shoulder makes when he turns it just so--
and the light turned to dark
and the dark turned to light
and I remembered all the things I thought I forgot...
and the note was scribbled on a scrap of paper
and I went out into the morning without a thought
of....
It's a quarter before the alarm
breaks fitful sleep.
I stretch-
then remember that
I'm not alone here.
Quietly
softly
I wriggle from tether
and creep to the bathroom...
this floor creaks.
I laid it all out there
the blubber
the penchant for
unmatched socks-
the scars
the lined up vials on the counter...
the space mask
the unwashed dishes
the magazines under the chair...
the book was found and unmentioned even.
I stood with arms crossed-defiant
door slightly ajar-waiting
and yet...
I declined to talk about it-
tired of talk-
of introspection-
so instead we laughed
and ate the ice cream I made
and listened to that awful crackle
his shoulder makes when he turns it just so--
and the light turned to dark
and the dark turned to light
and I remembered all the things I thought I forgot...
and the note was scribbled on a scrap of paper
and I went out into the morning without a thought
of....
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