it's not even midnight

by Poet on the Piano   Aug 26, 2020

and i'm sitting in the kitchen
again, tracing tiles that need
to be scrubbed, though i feel
like i'm always cleaning the
surfaces of things you walk over.

i want to curl up in the fetal
position until you find me in the
morning, stepping over my legs
without a second glance because
you have more important matters
to attend to at 6 AM.

i want to drink the bottle of vodka
an arm's length away and down it in
four quick gulps and let the coolness
of the floor and the lava in my throat
lull me into oblivion.

i want to forget i have a life
and responsibilities and people
who expect something good
out of me.

you say i have a purpose,
yet as my creator, are convinced
it somehow revolves around you.

i want to throw it all away
in a few reckless nights of
slow disco and cigarette burns,

but i know, i won't.


written while listening to "Let Me Down Gently" by La Roux
and also St. Vincent's "Slow Slow Disco"


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Latest Comments

  • 1 month ago

    by Skyfire

    You have such a personal way of describing and writing and I love it. This poem felt like one long sigh - dreaming and wishing away all your wants before midnight tolls and they're snatched away.

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