"oh shit"
does it again hide
under the bed and cry?
leaving a trail
one can smell
(it’s the loneliness, you know)
no-one sees
or hears
or tastes
or feels
just smells
the bitter
scent of a lonely
figure
hidden under the bed
choking on its blanket
blinded by the smoke
of the cigarettes
and the yesterday's liquor
on the floor
in a new substance (you know?)
and a torso spread around
oopsie, the figure under the bed –
it died.
(it must’ve died)
[please don’t die]
|
Submission Name: Divorcé at 5am
