Still Here

I went to bed at 10pm last night.

Turns out 10pm is late.

As in: so late it's equal is never.

And then I got up at 4am this morning.

Turns out 4am is too early.

As in: you should have come to bed earlier.

It's night all the time without sleep.

Watch yourself now,

your tongue wants to do nothing

but lash out.

Did you think there was going

to be some sort of understanding?

Here's what I understand:

Disappointment is a weapon

when it's cultivated.

Erosion is a process.

You start with new material.

And you try to make it perfect.

Anger works quite well for this.

Quiet anger or loud. It doesn't

matter. It wears you like evernew pants.

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I'm looking at a catalog that came

in the mail. We didn't ask for this.

People are happy in it. I want to buy them

and replace myself with a better

model. Present it like a shine off

a new car. “Here I am!” I would shout.

And we could go out or stay in.

And it wouldn't matter because

you would finally be happy with me.

Until I started to talk. You really don't

want me to talk. I keep saying things

you don't want me to say.

As it turns out, I'm not really the one

you want, just the one who can take it

the best. The one still here.

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