Thursday, August 19, 2010

Bitter disappointment

Hot or cold, I'm not happy
bitter disappointment fills my mouth
leaving behind a taste like pennies.

I roll it around my tongue
pressing it into the roof of my mouth
desperately wanting to bite down
knowing it will be as empty as chewing on water.

I open my mouth
letting it flow out of me
dribbling down my front
soaking into my skin.

It streams from every pore
like so many tears
until I am dry
parched and cracking.

I expect it to be gone
to feel better, lighter.
To make room inside me for
something more.

And where disappointment used to sit
fat and gloating
now there's just numbness.
A big, empty numbness
A tight, hard nothing
Tasting of pennies.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Do you know?

I went to work today, even though I could barely drag myself out of bed.
I did payroll and data entry and manager stuff, even though I wanted to get back in bed and pull the blankets over my head.

I went to dinner, and the library, and I came home, even though I wanted to run down the street naked and screaming.

I worked really hard at being sane. Did you see me, pretending not to be crazy?

I imagine you in your not-heaven
sitting on a chair made of clouds
drinking a pint of the angel's piss that passes for beer
turning on the TV into my world and watching me zombie around
and I wonder if you know.

Do you?

Ten years...

Ten years, four hours, and fifteen minutes ago you ended one life and changed the course of another.

Five years ago, I married your best friend.

Four days ago, I realised that I am the age you were when you stole yourself away from me.

Today, I am glad you came, and that you left.

My fans