3am...ish
No one ever looked that pathetic before
No one ever looked that attractive before
I hadn’t slept in days
What major am I again?
A family friend, she said, died.
Full moon and look at that
Home has a coastline
I didn’t walk here by her side
She carried me like scraps of tissue paper
Cupped in her hands
To toss into the wind
But not yet, first
She whispers how she’ll miss me when I’m gone
And kisses me goodbye
And I float up to the moon
And I float among the leaves
And get stuck in brittle branches till
3am again...ish
And the cabby says love is worth fighting for
I go to pay him but my arms and legs have been cut off
Having spent the past four hours in a room of
Pockmarked walls and a heroin-addicted brunette
With a flower for a name and a penchant for
Throwing ice cubes at the orderlies
And then they let me go
And he let me out (free of charge)
And she let me walk past
And he made his plan
And the social worker said
You’re not a danger to yourself or others
I would’ve laughed but I didn’t want
To shake the tree
I’m just scraps after all
Blown far away from here
