2:02 a.m.

I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
I am I am
am a thing thing thing
something sometimes
what am I?

Blurs on the perimeter - starry-eyed fools
glancing away from the abyss
How the hell do you manage?
you tip-tip me over the edge and spill
me (glass) all over the place
and onto my shirt
what a damned stain

Stop for a second please (that would be nice)
pause this moment in time and look at everything
stare at it
like an ugly photograph
and ask yourself why we ended up here
and why everyone dislikes what they are
- something weird, really weird -

we spill ourselves, it's what we do.
We're all glasses full of whatever-it-is-we're-full-of
tears maybe
and we throw ourselves onto everyone
hoping that someone will reach out
and tell us
we've had a bit too much to drink