It’s Not Been A Good Day.
yet another night
sitting here alone
in the dim glow
of a cheap lava lamp
my mind a flip-flop
between what ifs
and what never was.
bottle's empty again
like promises
to myself to be better
to be different
to be something
other than this tangled
mess half dreamt.
somewhere a woman
might be thinking of me
and maybe she's forgotten
how I laughed
at all those wrong moments
and cringed inside
hoping no one
would see.
love is a joke
we tell to ourselves
to make silence bearable
but in the dead of night,
in a stilled world
under a sliver of silver moon
wrapped in creeping regret
I wonder
if that cheap punchline
was worth its setup
I light a cigarette
watch its smoke curl
a question mark
in dusty air
and wonder again
if every touch
is a collision
is every word
a gamble
more likely
a knife and a hack
at dreams
we might’ve shared.
mixed emotions,
they call it
but it feels more like
slow disintegration
peeling away
layers until
all that's left
is raw heart
that’s been broken
too many times.
my cat yawns
and my clock ticks
while I sit here
wondering if tomorrow
will bring some new pain
more likely just the same.
another night
another poem
another bottle
another cigarette.
maybe next time
I'll get it right
maybe next time
I’ll love her
open, true and clear
so she’ll love me back
or more likely
I’ll fail.
again.