694

she boosted my ego
my fingers are turning yellow again
smoking too much
started writing poetry again
too much
too many mornings hungover
and I get what you said
yeah for once
she told me I was no good
and now I look at my bed
I feel sweat down my back
the power is out
I take out the smoke detector anyway
I might light a cigarette
I know what you meant
I just don’t know
what you meant
so that’s a new step
or the same one I’ve worn down
but maybe we don’t share poems anymore
and my age makes me think
we don’t share poems anymore
and everything tastes like everyone
I’ve ever met
how do you or I explain that
nights twisting alone
with others
to wake up and forget
where I am
how do I explain that
I’m missing classes
I’m still in school
we all have ways to cope
and I have a long list
much like yours
I just pick the bad things
the bad nights
that feel like hell
in an ice-tray